Kestis: A Star Wars Story
by AnnikaSkywalker05
Summary: Cal Kestis was hiding amongst criminals to hide his identiy for five years. But when destiny calls, will he fight the rising evil of Empire or keep running out of fear?
1. Prologue

**_Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order_**

**_Kestis: A Star Wars Story_**

**Based upon the speculative events of the upcoming single player video game by Respawn and EA. This is not my prediction of the storyline. This is simply me wanting to write these characters and seeing where my imagination takes me with this.**

_Started September 30th, 2019_

_By AnnikaSkywalker05_

**_Cal Kestis is one of the few survivors of the Jedi purge that took place only five short years ago. When an incident compels him to use the Force openly, the padawan is forced to go on the run from the Empire's deadly Inquisitors. Will his new found friends and he achieve their goal, or will the Sith Inquisitors and their master emerge victorious?_**

**_Prologue_**

The elegant figure stepped towards Cal with such intimidating grace that the revealed Jedi Padawan found himself taking a step back on the wet docking platform they both stood upon. The masked female was an Imperial Inquisitor, trained to hunt and efficiently eliminate surviving Jedi.

"You were foolish to reveal yourself."

She was like a feline, her voice seemingly smooth and calming, yet cold and malicious.

Cal refused to be moved by her words. Maybe he had been a fool to use the Force openly. Maybe it had been stupid and he was going to die a brutal death like the others before him.

But maybe, just maybe, a spark of hope was all he needed to persevere.

Cal recalled being found out, and recalled running like he had never run before.

He knew it was an experience he would not soon forget.

And he also knew he had just abandoned his four rules of basic survival in doing what he had.

Don't stand out. Accept the past. Trust no one. And whatever you do, don't reach within. Don't let yourself feel that energy, and don't you ever let yourself wield it for any reason.

In his years as a Jedi, that energy had been his lifeline. And in that wild moment, he'd broken all four of his rules. The imperial security probe droid hadn't missed the feat.

So he had run faster than he had known to be possible, away from the junkyards in an attempt to blend back in with the other scavengers and scrum rats.

He had run blindly right into his enemy.

_The Inquisitor._

She was clad in all black, with a mask hiding her features to show no emotion.

Cal did not know her species, nor did he know her name. All she was to anyone who knew anything about her, which was a very select few individuals, was that she was a servant of Darth Vader, and a servant of the Empire.

A high-ranking member of the inquisitorius, she was called The Second Sister.

And she was called only by that title. Only she knew her birth name.

And only she ever would.

Second only to the Pau'an Grand Inquisitor in Vader's group of Jedi hunters, she had proven herself to track down survivors of the infamous Order 66 and eliminate them swiftly.

Her new found prey stood before her, a young boy wielding a blue blade of the extinct Jedi Order. He wore the orange and grey uniform of the Scrapper Guild, a group of scavengers on the wet and miserable planet Bracca, which the Sister and the boy were currently visiting. He hid his fear in his determined gaze and his fighting stance, but the Sister was not fooled.

Fear was simple to sense, as simple as feeling the cool rain dripping down her clothes. It surrounded her Force, and she fed on it. In the dark side, fear is your ally. You use your fear as well as your adversary's fear to make power.

So as she stepped closer to the boy, she focused her mind and actions on the dark energy she relied on to make her strong in combat. The Sister was not afraid of losing the duel with the young Jedi. She saw it as an opportunity to play, to hone her skills in sensing emotion and using those emotions to defeat her enemy.

Now, as she made her final approach before striking, she ignited her blade. It sprung to life, running diagonally down her right side and nearly scorching the metal beneath her feet. The red saber glowed and sizzled from Bracca's raindrops. It illuminated her dim surroundings, revealing dust and small insects attracted to its light.

Her prey shivered in the freezing downpour as he shifted his stance, ready to block her first blow with his blue Jedi weapon.

The Sister was in no hurry. _To defeat your enemy, _she reminded herself, _you have to understand them. _

With that in mind, the Inquisitor closed her eyes behind her mask and let herself go into the mind of the Jedi.

Aloof of the roaring thunder and sounds of ship's engines, she focused her every thought into feeling her adversary.

She felt his grief for a master that was no more, a master who had only taught him for a short time.

She heard the blaster fire and the whining of lightsabers echoing off the walls of a familiar structure.

It was the Jedi temple during Order 66. The boy had been there.

She then felt his deep, hidden anger at the empire and its emperor, who issued that order to eradicate the Jedi only five short years ago.

She felt his overwhelming, yet outwardly concealed fear of her. He was afraid to be caught in the empire's grip, and afraid to be beaten by his opponent.

But he had a sense of courage and determination the Sister had to admire.

This Jedi, however, was easy to read on the inside, with little training in the Force and vulnerable emotions.

It did not take long for her to understand her enemy. No Jedi had ever escaped her grasp, and this one would be no different. With this one, all she needed was intimidation, for she knew he was not experienced enough to control his fear for very long. It would be good practice for fighting fully-fledged Jedi masters that may have survived the purge.

Knowing what she needed to win, The Sister chose this moment to begin, leaping a brilliant Force-jump and striking her startled opponent's blade upon landing with perfect elegance on her target.

The Jedi deflected the blow and pushed her off with surprising physical strength, ready for another.

The block was good, better than she had anticipated. But she knew that he hid his emotions, but did not shut them out. The Sister knew without second thought that she would triumph.

The dark Force flowing through her with newly found momentum, the Sister gracefully spun as she again struck her opponent's blade of light with her own, paying no heed to the bolts of lightning flashing through the dark sky.


	2. Chapter1:RescuedbyFate

So, here we go! You all can kill me for skipping the actual fight, but it would have been brief and I felt this had a

better effect on the reader. Some of the characters from the trailers pop up in here!

**_Chapter 1: Rescued by Fate_**

The Inquisitor applied so much pressure to her blow that Cal fell back onto the platform on which they were fighting.

Exhausted from their lengthy duel and what had come before, the young Jedi forced his tired muscles to stand and prepare for the next swift strike of the Sister's scarlet saber.

He had never engaged in proper lightsaber combat in his lifetime, only practiced with training sabers.

It hadn't been nearly enough to prepare for an imperial inquisitor.

Not sure how much longer he would last against his skilled predator, he used his rapidly draining energy to lift his blade in defense yet again as she charged towards him. The Jedi hunter raised her blade above her head as she raced in his direction, ready to strike the final blow of their duel.

It never came.

Both felt the shrill warning in the Force, the feeling that screamed danger. Both turned with unnatural reflexes to see what was swiftly coming for them.

There was no time to run.

Almost immediately after the combatants had sensed the warning, a violent jolt shook the foundations of the platform and sent the Jedi and presumably his adversary flying through the air as flames erupted, only to be quickly extinguished by the frigid torrent.

He landed hard, rolling on the metal surface several times before finally coming to a stop.

Disoriented, and his vision blurred, he saw only the rain and the walls of the platform from his view on the ground, and faintly heard only his own heavy breathing and a ship's engine roaring behind him. Landing gear hissed as Cal heard hurried footsteps racing down the ramp of the mysterious vessel.

_"Hurry!"_

Startled by an unfamiliar voice, he forced himself to make an effort to stay conscious and turn to look towards the voice.

A ship had landed on the narrow dock. Its boarding ramp was down, and on it was a middle aged, dark skinned woman with short, curly hair almost like a carpet on her head and simple leather clothing.

She held out her left hand towards him. Her expression was anxious and compelling.

_ "Hurry!"_

_Oh_. Not seeing any other halfway desirable options, the Padawan managed to stand and face her.

As he took his first step towards the woman, something was immediately wrong, and he nearly fell again as his right leg bent inward. The sudden pain screamed at him to stop, but he forced himself to ignore it as he limped as quickly as possible to the ship and his rescuer.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was at last on the ramp.

Immediately the woman grabbed his arm with surprising force and yanked him by his sleeve, pulling him quickly aboard her starship.

Her force caused him to stumble into the interior and catch himself on the wall of the ship, managing to stay standing despite his leg.

And in that brief moment he thought he might as last be safe.

Safe from the Sister, safe from the stormtroopers stationed at every corner, safe from some of the cruel members of the Scrapper Guild.

But safety was not yet accomplished.

An all too familiar hiss sounded behind him as The Inquisitor, unhurt by the explosion, held her ignited lightsaber ready as she stepped towards her prey with unsettling felinity.

Cal froze and turned to look, feeling almost mesmerized by her methodical movements, but his mysterious savior thrust him back again, away from the threshold of the ramp and further into the interior of her ship as she fired her blaster at the Sister.

The Jedi watched, amazed, as his hunter dodged with perfect precision, using the force to make her swift.

She leaped, turning her body with incredible agility, evading every red blaster bolt fired in her direction, and reached out with her gloved hand to strike the woman who had saved him.

She was getting close, so very close to slicing the woman in two with her scarlet blade, but the ramp closed at just the right moment, leaving only a scorch on the ship's door.

———————————————————————————————

Cere had been shocked to hear about a Jedi on Bracca.

For years she had told herself there were none left, not even Yoda.

But she was pleasantly surprised to be wrong.

She and her latero pilot Greez had monitored imperial transmissions that morning, listening for anything of interest. Sometimes they heard about new systems the Empire had overtaken, or where the stormtroopers were now stationed on various planets.

But Cere had never expected to hear that a rigger for the Scrapper Guild had used the Force when a job had gone wrong.

Automatically intrigued, she had quickly ordered Greez to fly their ship, The Stinger Mantis, to the shipyards where the incident had been reported in hopes of rescuing this supposed Jedi survivor.

No doubt the Empire was now after him, and no doubt they would send one of their dreaded Inquisitors that she had spent the past year trying to learn more about.

But she felt that she had to get involved, had to save this Jedi who was crazy enough to wield the Force publicly.

Because Cere herself had been a Jedi. She longingly remembered her temple days, with the then boring Jedi history classes from Jocasta Nu and her wonderful friends.

She refused to recall their names. It only made her nostalgic, and she needed to be in the moment at all times.

She vividly remembered passing her trials to at last become a Jedi Padawan at the age of fifteen.

Cere had finished at the top of her class, with her quick wits and seemingly passive yet brilliant combat skills.

And so she had been chosen by a Master, a master who would guide her to knighthood.

_Master Eno Cordova._ He had been a bit of an older Jedi, around the age of fifty. He was incredibly wise and deceivingly talented in lightsaber combat. Cordova had been so patient with her when she lashed out, so understanding when she was frustrated, and so kind to her when she struggled with anything she learned.

Until The Emperor. Until the purge.

Cere forced herself to remember that day, the day her friends and her master were all ruthlessly taken from her. The clones, the trusted soldiers of the Republic that had saved her life over and over, turned on them.

They showed no pity. Even the children were not spared.

She hated thinking about that part.

Somehow Cere had escaped. She had run as fast as the Force permitted, away from the screams and the Jedi temple she once called home.

One thing, however, she would never forget.

She was forever haunted by it. It was what she saw when she had turned to look back inside the temple, after she had run away from the clones and their lethal blaster fire so quickly that her lungs heaved and her legs ached.

A Jedi was doing some of the killing. A figure wielding a blue lightsaber and wearing dark Jedi robes had been attacking the younglings.

Cere had carried that image in her mind for the past five years now, wondering who would turn traitor in the Jedi ranks. Did Yoda know? Did Obi-Wan Kenobi know? Did the prophesied Chosen One, Anakin Skywalker, know? What if Skywalker had to destroy the Empire to fulfill the prophecy?

What if he had been the Jedi attacking the younglings?

She knew she would probably never know.

_Now_, she realized, _a new opportunity has arisen._ _And a new threat. _

Cere peered cautiously out of the cockpit's window. The inquisitor was nowhere to be found.

Cere refused to believe she had let them go, for she knew The Inquisitors never let their prey escape their grasp.

Uneasy to assume safety, and knowing all of the things the Sister could have done without physically chasing them, Cere glanced inquisitively at her old alien friend.

Greez had grey skin, four arms, and a little bit of white hair on each side of his round, flat head, giving him a bit of a grumpy appearance.

He shrugged, seeming to try to tell Cere not to worry. The ex-Jedi sighed and shot one last look at the gradually shrinking platform in the distance before slowly turning to face her new hope.

The Jedi's lightsaber was activated. He was bracing himself against the doorway of the Mantis' bridge, his saber in an unsteady, defensive position.

Cere couldn't help but notice that the boy was completely terrified. He was so scared and confused that he didn't even seem to notice that his leg was bent in an unnatural way.

She was honestly surprised he was still standing, after a likely long lightsaber duel, the explosion, and not to mention his broken leg. He was breathing heavily, and Cere sensed it was partly from his fear.

Silence was loud on the bridge of The Stinger Mantis.

At last, after two minutes of quiet, the boy spoke.

"Who are you people?"

The Jedi's voice was that of a teenage boy, although now it was very hesitant and shaky.

Cere did not initially respond, as she needed to think before speaking.

Cere sighed as she allowed herself to go into the Force, a luxury she only permitted herself to use on occasion.

She needed to know what he was thinking, and what he was feeling. She had to understand him.

Closing her tired eyes, she went inside. Immediately she sensed his fear, but she did not need the Force to know he was terrified. That was not what she needed or wanted to know.

Cere went deeper, down the line of emotions a Force user could feel. Yoda's words rang in her ears, a lesson from long ago.

_Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. _

So she passed the fear, and went down the path of anger.

Cere felt in this certain moment he was not angry, not at the Inquisitor and not at her. But he had an anger hidden down inside, a concealed anger Cere also shared.

Refusing to allow herself to dwell on it, she looked for hate. Hatred was one of the most dangerous emotions, Cere knew, because it was often what began to make your darkness sprout.

Fear planted the seed. Anger watered it, and hate made it sprout. And suffering was the harvest, the fruit of the labor. It was the result of the dark path, a path that would always dominate your destiny.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_A Jedi shall not know fear, nor hatred, nor love._

Cere had been required to memorize the Jedi Code at a young age, as had all of the other younglings.

She smiled recalling the most frequently asked question among the younglings and Padawans.

If love is forbidden, why is compassion encouraged?

She remembered hearing different answers, each from a different Jedi Master, each with a different, yet similar interpretation.

She remembered the day Master Kenobi had taught them, and even more vividly remembered what he had said in response to the question.

_Compassion is feeling sorry for a person in an undesirable situation. Love is officially committing yourself to consistently having unnecessary compassion for a certain individual. _

She often disagreed with the view, but followed it anyways. Cede had longingly watched couples that shared love.

They looked always looked so happy. So...carefree.

Sometimes she wished she didn't have the Force so she could be normal.

But the Force was strongly associated with emotion, and love was a very, very powerful emotion.

So she understood it and obeyed the code without common complaints. The one section of the code about there being no death had always stuck out to her. It seemed to sum it all up, to set the foundation for the rest of the sacred Code.

_A code now useless_, she thought for a moment before mentally pushing it away and resuming trying to sense the final key emotion; suffering.

Bracing herself for the worst, she went inside.

First she found what she knew she would find, and what she also carried with her, day by day.

The loss of friends. The loss of home. The loss of all order, light, and family. The loss of all compassion. The boy carried that grief, trying to hide it but often unable to move on from it. Cere knew what that was like.

Accepting and forgetting the past felt impossible sometimes.

She continued her journey through his feelings, through the emotion. She found his emotions tied to Bracca, tied to the Scrapper Guild and the people in it. She felt constant exhaustion, felt constant worry of unknown people or unknown things, and felt loneliness. Cere could relate to it all.

_We survivors are all the same. We just have a different story. _

And finally she found the last, simplest piece of the suffering emotion, one she had already guessed.

His leg was killing him.

With that, Cere lapsed out of her trance.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Greez, wanting him to answer the boy's question.

Greez acknowledged her and turned towards the Jedi, whose lightsaber was still ignited.

"Okay, who we are is for later, kid. Shut that thing off and grab some seat."

Realizing they needed to jump to hyperspace to get out of the Bracca's system, Cere quickly walked to the control panel in the main area of The Stinger Mantis, paying no attention when the Jedi raised his lightsaber to defend himself when she walked by him.

She listened intently for the boy's answer as she punched coordinates into the navigation system of her ship. Cere heard the lightsaber deactivate behind her, and the voice again.

This time it seemed more normal, more aware.

"Okay, fine. But who are you? Why should I trust you?"

"Because we just saved your life. Sit down, Jedi." Greez responded, seeming slightly annoyed.

Cere finished her calculations just as the Jedi finally sank into the co-pilot's chair.

She noticed the boy's grimace upon sitting down.

_He's good at hiding pain. Just like me when I was a padawan. Never wanted pity. Drove Master Cordova crazy._ _Like that time on-_

Cere shook her head, forcing herself back into the moment.

"Coordinates are set, Greez. Make the jump. We can't let the Empire track us."

Greez simply nodded his grey-skinned head and pulled the throttle. Stars blurred before their eyes as the Mantis at last made the jump to lightspeed.

Cere finally sat down in the chair behind Greez and faced the boy, hoping she looked friendly.

She knew what it was like to be him. She had been there only a few short years ago.

Cere knew what a difference a friendly face had made in her life.

She and her pilot were both looking into his eyes, ready to start the introductions.

"So. I am Cere, and this is my pilot, Greez. And you are?" Cere asked, trying to sound as warm and upbeat as possible.

The Jedi hesitated, clearly not yet sure of them and their intentions.

Cere didn't blame him in the slightest.

"I'm...Cal. Thanks. For getting me out of there." he finally answered and offered a small smile.

Greez smiled back at Cal, for the first time warm towards the Jedi Padawan.

"You're welcome. We heard reports of a Jedi and, well, Cere here couldn't resist."

Cal made eye contact with Cere for the first time, his curious brown eyes pressing for answers.

Cere somehow felt she could tell this boy her best hidden truth. Something just felt...right about him.

So for the first time since meeting Greez, she confessed her best kept secret.

"I am also a Jedi, Cal. A fellow survivor of the purge, just like you."

The fellow Jedi's eyes widened in clear shock at the revelation.

"You...you are?" he asked in disbelief and awe.

Cere smiled. It was a relief to finally say it.

_I am a Jedi. _

"Yes, Cal. I am a Jedi." It was so very, very refreshing after five years of secrecy.

But what had made Cal let the secret out? What had happened at the junkyard?

"What caused you to use the Force, Cal?"

Cal exhaled and looked at the floor, seeming to wonder if he could trust his fellow survivor with the story.

After a long moment, he looked up into Cere's waiting eyes, seeming relieved to talk to someone he might call a friend.

"It's a long story. But we seem to have time, right?"


	3. Chapter2:Everyday’sBeginning

So...I'm doing some backtracking so you all know what happened prior to my intense prologue. :D I will get back to "the present" at chapter 8.

**_Chapter 2: Everyday's Beginning _**

The alarm on the intercom of the dilapidated building rang loudly throughout the entire structure.

Every morning it woke all of the building's residents at exactly four o'clock. There were no weekends, and there were no days off. No one in the Scrapper Guild got more than five hours of sleep, no matter how hard they worked or how late they stayed up the night before. It was a difficult life, with its eleven hour shifts from five in the morning to six in the evening every day. After a long day of work, the guild members would often congregate at the local bar to talk, grab a drink, and just relax for a couple of hours before going to sleep.

There were a few jobs a member of the guild could choose from. Rigging the salvageable ships to the massive cargo vessels was the most dangerous job, only for the most experienced. If a cable was not secure, it meant certain death by Sarlacc pit for the riggers who had made the costly mistake. The Sarlacc was a creature on Bracca that had a large, beak like mouth. It was implanted in the ground, hence Sarlacc pit, with tentacles and teeth surrounding the edges of the pit. Everyone had heard the unfortunate stories of its victims time and time again, only hoping they would never be in the tales.

Then there were cutters, who cut the ships parts and doorways to find anything of worth. They tore the ships apart inside and out, making it easier for the riggers to attach their clamps.

There were also overseers, loaders, and pilots. Each job was necessary, and each job was hard. And no breaks were included in their shifts. The only thing the laborers received was a meal and the guarantee they would sleep under a roof for another night, only to be awakened by the guild building's deafening alarm system to repeat the same day-to-day schedule.

Most did not come by choice, or at least by desire. The majority came to hide for different reasons. Typically it was to hide from law enforcement. Sometimes it was to hide from someone they had wronged. And sometimes it was something else entirely.

But one member of the Scrapper Guild was certain he was the only one with his reason to hide.

Cal Kestis rolled over on his bed, his sore muscles aching from yesterday's work. Yesterday, he had been a cutter, as he usually was, slicing the many parts of Ventor-class star destroyers with his thermal cutting tool for hours on end. Sometimes he found ARC fighters, or even V-wing interceptors.

Other times he found clone's helmets or blasters.

On a good day, he would forget the past and imagine himself a Jedi General, leading his own battalion of clones into battle against the Separatists. He had envisioned himself with the best of the best, like Strass Allie and the 41st, Obi-Wan Kenobi and the 312th, or heck, even Anakin Skywalker and the legendary 501st battalion. The ex-Jedi had imagined fighting legions of all different kinds of droids side by side with the most famous Jedi of the Order. Crab droids, super battle droids, rocket droids, Droidekas, commando droids, or even just the simple B1 models.

He often wondered how the greatest generals fought the droids. _How did they know when to advance and when to retreat? How did they know how to anticipate the droid's actions? How did they know how to accept defeat?_ Cal wished for nothing more than to know first-hand. But the dream would never be accomplished. As far as he was concerned, nothing new ever happened in his life. Everything was guaranteed now. Everything was on a schedule with a set time and place.

Adventure was a thirst he was sure would never be quenched.

The blaring alarm continued to ring as it always did, only stopping once every occupant of the building had left their dorm. Unable to handle the shrill noise any longer, Cal forced himself to leave his thoughts and get up out of his less-than comfortable bed.

As he shook himself awake, he took the short moment to look at his small room. In the corner, he had a small table and chair that had no real use. The simple wooden table had a broken leg, and the wicker chair's back was slowly crumbling apart. He had a little desk with two drawers that he put his few valuables in, such as his guild ID card and his few credits. In another drawer he kept his favorite finds from scavenging, among them a battle droid finger, a shard of clone armor, and a small holomap of the exterior of a separatist cruiser. His bed was little more than a metal cot with a thin grey blanket the guild had provided him with when he joined three years ago.

On many nights, Cal longed for his room at the Jedi temple, a temple now either obliterated or being used as a palace for the Emperor. He briefly wondered what purpose his room served at the present.

Chances are, it wasn't being used at all.

Knowing he had to go, he left his thoughts and stumbled out the door leading into the narrow hallway, immediately bumping into the person he least wanted to see.

"Watch where you're headed, kid," the bald-headed human man spat coldly upon Cal's exit.

It was Jorvis, a rigger with a notorious bad attitude. Jorvis had immediately targeted Cal when he joined the guild, with Cal being a much younger human male with no experience at the time. The Jedi in hiding had tried his best to ignore the much more built man's bullying, but sometimes it was too much for him to tolerate.

Encounters like this were almost daily.

"Sorry, sorry," Cal muttered apologetically and looked at the floor, trying his best to push past his muscular foe without conflict.

Fighting would likely result in him losing, and if he couldn't work that day, he couldn't eat that night.

It just wasn't worth it.

"Sorry? I'll make you sorry, boy," Jorvis growled and stood directly in front of Cal, refusing to let him go. His large build caused him to take up almost the entire hallway's width.

_Oh for goodness' sake, you idiot, _Cal thought irritatedly as he glanced at a drop of dirty water leaking through the molded ceiling that he always thought would rot and crash down on him someday.

_Haven't you figured out what happens when you start an unnecessary fight?_

"No need, Jorvis. Besides," the Jedi said a bit smugly, remembering, "you wouldn't want to get put in solitary confinement for beating me up again, would you?"

That lit the fuse. Infuriated by the younger boy's reminder, Jorvis roared and struck out his balled fist in Cal's direction, landing a solid hit on his jaw. Cal swiftly fell to the filthy carpeted floor from the impact and grabbed his mouth, trying to make certain it was still in the right place.

"That week of solitude was worth teaching you your place, Cal!" Realizing he had made a mistake by enraging the middle-aged rigger, Cal nervously turned to face Jorvis, bracing himself for another blow.

_Hopefully this beat down won't be as bad as last time..._

"Hey! Cut it out, bald guy," an unfamiliar voice shouted behind them with a certain authority to his tone.

Surprised by the interruption, both adversaries turned to look at an older-looking abednedo standing firm at the other end of the hallway. Like all of his kind, his face was shaped like a cone, with a large, bald head and a tube-shaped mouth.

"Who are you supposed to be, alien?" Jorvis retorted with not an iota of respect in his gruff tone. "Are you this kid's grandpa? You sure look old enough to be."

The male abednedo stepped directly in front of his challenger, standing in between him and Cal, who was still on the floor.

"Oh, I'm only the head rigger of the guild and one of your many bosses," he replied, not at all amused by the much more muscular man's distasteful remarks.

Cal was shocked by this alien's bravery. No one in the guild messed with Jorvis, not even the higher-ups.

"Now, I suggest you leave this boy alone before I send you to the brig." For a moment Jorvis glared at his supposed boss, seeming to consider ignoring his orders. But no one, not even him, ever wanted to land themselves in the infamous brig.

"Fine. Take the kid and leave me alone." And with that, he stormed off, making every step he took echo off the walls of the hallway.

"So uncivilized. You good, kid?"

The abednedo offered his hand to Cal, who gratefully accepted it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to you," he answered upon standing, truly thankful.

Cal was well aware of how badly Jorvis could have hurt him. Too aware.

"No problem," the alien man assured, then glanced at his bruised jaw. "That hurt?"

Cal shrugged, not wanting to look soft in front of his courageous rescuer. "No," he swiftly lied as he felt it again. The gentle pressure he applied was excruciating.

The abednedo laughed warmly at his quick response. "You're a bad liar, boy. Good thing you don't have to lie to me."

Cal laughed with him, welcoming the opportunity. _He has no idea how good I am at lying._

"I guess so," he agreed ungenuinely, and wiped his right arm across his mouth. A red streak stained the top of his dirty hand.

"I'm Prauf, the head rigger for this warm and welcoming guild. And you? Prauf asked, his tone playfully sarcastic.

Cal allowed himself to again laugh at Prauf's sarcasm.

"I'm Cal. I've been a cutter here for the past three years."

The whole truth filled the Jedi's mind, but he of course had not said it.

_I am Cal Kestis, Jedi Padawan, once apprenticed to a Jedi Master who was killed in Order 66. I am hiding from the empire. That is my only reason for being in this dreadful place filled with people like Jorvis who are worse than bantha cr-_

"Kid?"

Cal rapidly shook his head to stop his day-dreaming.

"Sorry, what?" the padawan asked, feeling almost sleepy from his brief thoughts.

Prauf chuckled. "Nothin'. You just looked like you sorta zoned out."

"Just thinking about something," Cal assured nervously.

An awkward silence happened between the two for a moment.

"I'd, uh, better go get my cutting gear. I've wasted too much time with that moron already," Cal suddenly realized, even though he wanted nothing more than to just relax with his new found friend.

Prauf's small, dark eyes seemed to nod in understanding. The ex-Jedi gave him one last smile of thanks before reluctantly jogging down the rickety staircase to begin his long day.

——————————————————————————————-

After what seemed like a much longer wait than usual, the train to the junkyards arrived at the old station, where many members of the guild were waiting for it.

Among them was Cal, who had rushed to gather his supplies necessary for cutting and had practically sprinted to the station after his delay that morning. He wore his orange and grey leather hood over his head to shield his himself from the never-ending rain and to avoid conversation, particularly with Jorvis, who had been waiting for the same train. The Jedi did not want nor did he need any more conflict with the guild's local bully.

Upon finally arriving, the train's electronic intercom greeted the numerous people of all different species boarding. "Station 37B reached. Welcome, riders. Destination: Junkyard section 21A."

Cal allowed everyone else to board first, not necessarily to be courteous but to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Life on the run had taught him to never stand out, no matter how frivolous the situation seemed. You could never be sure that you weren't being watched or followed.

Cal had made long ago peace with the fact that he was never truly safe.

_But someday,_ he thought hopefully as the last person before him boarded the train, _someday I will be._

He made especially certain Jorvis was already on board when he at last stepped onto the unsteady metal train car, immediately turning to face the entrance as the doors shut with a loud clang. Automatically after the doors closed, the train shot forward, prompting the riders to hold on to the stability handles scattered around the cramped car or to simply sit down.

As usual, an argument broke out between two guild members, who were quickly broken up by an overseer.

Cal scarcely turned to look at their brief conflict as the constant rain poured down on Bracca, sending drops of water racing down the window of the fast-moving locomotive.

Cal often enjoyed watching them, wondering which would reach its objective first and which would ultimately fail.

He considered the raindrops to be like the build-up to the Jedi Purge, with the Republic moving slowly along and Palpatine starting behind, but soon enough Palpatine moved so swiftly that he overtook the Republic and the Jedi Order at the very end of the window.

_But who will win at the next window?_ Cal frequently wondered. _Will the Jedi and the light be overtaken again, or will we persevere and defeat the Sith? Or will a new order rise?_

The padawan never had the time to puzzle out such possibilities on the daily train ride, as it was rather short. Five minutes after he had boarded, Cal felt and heard the train screech to a stop.

"Destination reached. Have a nice day." The Jedi found himself struggling to identify anyone in the Scrapper Guild who would ever program an intercom to say something so polite as he stepped off, having arrived at his workplace.

Almost immediately after disembarking, he encountered a particular individual he would have rather not interacted with at that moment.

"Hey, there you are, boy! Why the serious expression, huh?"

_Great. I definitely don't need his company right now._

"Just thinking, Korter. I'd rather be alone right now," Cal responded, hiding his extreme annoyance.

The middle-aged mirilian man looked disappointed. "Aw, you wanna be alone? You still need a friend?" he cooed in his very irritating tone of voice.

Cal rolled his eyes. Even if attachments hadn't been forbidden by the Jedi Order, Cal was sure he wouldn't have any close friends now.

Especially since trust was a touchy subject for a survivor like him.

"No, Korter. I don't need or want a friend in my life," he lied easily.

A true friend was what he wanted more than anything in the world.

"Now please leave me alone," he responded as kindly as he could manage.

_Just leave me alone, you dumb pilot. Stop always trying to make friends with me._

"Fine. Be a bah-hum-bug. But don't worry, I'll keep looking," he assured with a cheesy wink of his blue eye as he strutted away.

Cal was trying very hard not to yell out all of his angry feelings and words at Korter, but controlled himself well.

Being a Jedi taught you that sort of thing.

"You certainly don't have to," he muttered half to himself and half in response to the mirilian as a masked guard scanned his ID.

_ Korter. Another person I wish I didn't have to come across all the time. At least I know he won't break my entire rib cage like Jorvis._

An affirmative beep sounded on the scanning device, followed by a green light.

"You're through," the guard mumbled, his voice distorted under his mask.

Cal wasted no time in passing through the checkpoint, grateful to finally be away from the other workers.

On his way out, the cutter took a moment to read his guidelines on a small holoprojector.

_ Venator #73, starboard side. Inspect all rooms and hangar bays. Keeping any valuables for yourself that you find will have consequences. Return this device to the checkpoint by six o'clock. _

Cal found the lift that would take him to the correct vessel while he was reading his instructions, as he was already familiar with this section of the colossal junkyard. For the majority of his three years here, he had been assigned to this same sector. Nothing exciting had ever been uncovered here.

_Who knows?_ Cal thought hopefully as he neared his destination. _Maybe today I'll find something of val-_

The Jedi suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, frozen by an energy he abandoned long ago, an energy only he could feel.

The Force.

It was back, calling him, as it had before. It tugged at his heart, begging for him to come back to it like an orphaned child.

But this time, something felt was different.

Something was...new?

Shaking his head in dismissal, he stepped onto the seemingly unstable lift, and with a push of a button he was sent flying skyward towards a bridge that would lead him to his assigned starship.

The world blurred before his eyes as the speedy elevator continued its journey upwards.

The view was little more than torrenting rain and hundreds of ships scattered across the muddy horizon of Bracca.

The Jedi often took this time to think, but only dark thoughts of Jorvis, Korter, the past, and the present began to fill his busy mind. Cal consciously worked on shoving them away as the lift reached its destination.

_Don't think about them,_ he told himself over and over again.

_They don't matter. All you need to do is survive another day._

_And one day, you won't have to see them anymore._

_One day, it won't just be about surviving another day on this miserable planet._

_One day, he whispered to himself with conviction, you'll escape…_


	4. Chapter3:TheCalling

Going deep into some clone wars tie-ins and a reference to E.K. Johnston's novel Ahsoka.

**_Chapter 3: The Calling_**

Four hours into his workday, Cal had found nothing.

Sure, he'd found a malfunctioning R3 astromech, half a blaster, and a bent hairbrush, but he hadn't exactly found kyber crystals and ion rifles.

Cal had never been lucky enough to find a kyber crystal. The rumor among the members of the guild was that if you found a kyber crystal, you would receive a week off of work and still get dinner. To the young Jedi, it sounded like a dream.

Sleeping in and relaxing for a day sounded like nothing short of heaven. He couldn't remember the last time he didn't have to wake up to that blasted alarm system.

But something had always troubled him about how one earned that vacation.

_Why kyber crystals? _

Cal recalled being an eleven year old youngling, on his way to the much-anticipated Gathering with his classmates. It was there, on the sacred and icy planet of Illum, that Jedi younglings found their kyber crystals.

Even Grand Master Yoda had accompanied them to instruct them on how to proceed.

They all had to face different trials for their different emotions to receive their prize, which was found in the dark, cold kyber cave.

Cal remembered being trapped under a small avalanche, overcome with fear that he would freeze to death, never leave the cave, and never see his friends again.

But fear had been his test.

After what the padawan had guessed was an hour, he had managed to calm himself and break through the ice with the Force.

It was shortly after that event that he had constructed his lightsaber with his newly acquired crystal, a weapon he would only get to use for a short time. Blue had been his destined color. He recalled its hilt, with its small, rubber grey grip and darker grey chrome hilt. Oh, what pride he had taken in that blade! It had filled him with ambitions of fighting every droid, creature, and even Sith that stood in his way.

Only a year later, it became useless.

The fear of being caught with a Jedi's weapon had been overwhelming. Cal had struggled with the difficult decision, at one point leaving it and coming back for it, he was so conflicted.

A close call with a stormtrooper on Corellia made the decision for him.

The ex-Jedi had no idea where it was now. He only remembered standing on the ledge of the busy Correlian Upper City as he gazed down on the notoriously rough and dirty Lower City. He had said his final goodbye to his weapon as it fell to an unknown drop point in the mean streets of lower Corellia, likely for a smuggler or scrum rat to find.

The loss of his lightsaber had been like an open wound in his side for a while after. He had felt so empty, so deprived of the life he once had and would never have again. It had taken over a year to get over it. Even now, he wondered if he had ever truly recovered from all of the loss.

Cal realized he probably never would.

The kyber crystals are powerful, sharing a special connection to the Force. Cal recalled Yoda describing them as conduits through which the Force flows freely, undisturbed by light-side Force powers.

The dark side, however, imprisoned their crystals.

The former padawan remembered learning about how the Sith manipulate their lightsaber crystals, forcing them to fuse with their blades against their will. The usually blue, green, yellow, or purple crystals would begin to "bleed", until finally becoming completely red.

One could redeem bleeding crystals, however, to turn them into a beautiful, pearl white.

Pure and light, opposed to filthy and dark.

What the Scrapper Guild higher-ups wanted with kyber Cal did not know. But something inside him was whispering to his mind, telling him something about the exchange the scrapper guild was offering wasn't right.

_What does it matter, anyways? _Cal thought carelessly and he began cutting through another blast door.

_I've never found one, and probably never wi-_

The Jedi's senses suddenly flared up again, just as they had that morning. They were calling, beckoning, pleading with him for something he could not pinpoint. The feeling was so very forceful that Cal almost sat down from the pressure.

_Nothing like this has ever happened before_, he thought as he began to breathe almost laboriously from the force of the feeling.

_What game is the Force playing with me now?_

The moment he finished his thought, the feeling vanished, and the pressure was lifted.

_Strange_, Cal mused as he began slicing through the last quarter section of the blast door with his thermal cutting knife. Careful not to burn his fingers on the sizzling metal, Cal pulled the now detached blast door away from the entrance with impressive brute strength for a boy of seventeen.

Light slowly began to fill the small hangar bay as he inched the heavy door further and further away. With one last shove, Cal rolled his sore shoulders, picked up his knife, and moved to peek inside the dimly lit room.

But before he even managed to see what was inside, the mysterious beckoning returned, this time stronger than it ever had been.

——————————————————————————————-

This time, the weight did drive him to his knees.

It was begging him to do something, trying to literally pressure him into doing it.

_What the heck is happening to me?_ the Jedi thought almost irritatedly as knelt on the floor of the Venator, focusing on controlling his heavy breathing.

_There must be something in here. Something is doing this to me._

Slowly, Cal lifted his head against the strange weight to look inside the small hangar for the first time.

Inside, he gazed upon what he immediately knew was the cause of the beckoning.

Something he had always longed for, but never had been fortunate enough to receive, let alone fly.

A Jedi starfighter.

Its cockpit was concealed by rounded glass, coated in dust from never being uncovered.

The tips of its two wings were painted dark blue, the color sparkling in the soft light.

Inside the droid socket was a dormant R4 astromech, its battery having died long ago.

Cal should have felt overjoyed to see what he had dreamed of as a young boy. All he ever wanted was to fly one of these, side by side with his trusted astromech and his clone squadron in battle against the droid army. He had had dreams of flying side by side with the greatest pilots of the Order, such as Master Saesee Tinn, Master Plo Koon, and even Anakin Skywalker himself. Cal had imagined doing spins and dodges, filling every vulture droid that challenged him chock-full of laser bolts.

Instead, the ex-Jedi found he was terrified.

He realized the Force was calling him to this fighter, pleading with him to go back to its light and come out of hiding.

_But that has happened before,_ Cal recalled as he stared at the ship. _The Force has asked me to come back multiple times in the past. But...this time it feels different. Almost familiar._

The crippling pressure suddenly lightened for a moment, and Cal took his opportunity to stand and finally approach the Jedi starship.

Although old and likely dysfunctional, it was beautiful. The padawan ran his hand over the chrome wings upon reaching it. The silver panels were filthy with dirt and dust from their long solitude.

Cal dreamily imagined them when they were clean and shiny, sparkling against the starlight in the deepest parts of space.

The boy briefly wondered whom had owned the ship when his hand seemed to freeze on a certain point.

Confused, Cal looked down on his seemingly paralyzed hand to see what he had been touching.

The moment he shifted his gaze to look, the world faded to darkness.

Screams were ringing in his ears.

Blaster fire could be heard in every direction.

Thick smoke filled the air, limiting oxygen and making breathing difficult.

Suddenly, his sight was restored.

Cal could see the flames now, could clearly hear the blaster bolts being fired. He was kneeling on red carpet, hiding behind a marble statue…

_I have escape, have to escape, his mind constantly repeated. Have to stay out of sight. _

Nearby, a lightsaber could be heard, the sound of the energy beam comforting. Moments later it was silenced.

"Get him!" a clone's voice commanded. Cal gasped in terror and whirled around, almost causing the statue he was hidden behind to topple.

No one was there.

In the distance, another lightsaber was audible, and before long was forever hushed by blaster fire.

The boy's heart thudded against his ribs, and his breathing was quick and noisy. He listened for any sign of another Jedi, any sign of hope.

Only more and more screams were heard. More and more lightsabers were quieted.

The blaster fire sounded as if it would never end.

But all of a sudden, after maybe ten agonizing minutes, it stopped.

The silence was as frightening as the previous sounds.

Suddenly the padawan heard footsteps coming dangerously close to the statue he was hidden behind. Overwhelmed by fear, Cal held his breath, careful not to make the slightest sound.

"Are you sure that's all of them? My master will be most displeased if not all of the Jedi are wiped out."

The voice was that of a young man. It was not a clone.

"I'm sure, sir. No Jedi can be in this building. It's just not possible that any survived here."

This time, it was a clone, his voice deep and respectful.

_So I've done the impossible?_ Cal wondered, half proud and half disheartened by the statement.

Footsteps came even closer to the boy's hiding place.

Cal completely froze, wishing he had learned the Jedi trick of temporary invisibility.

After four steps, the man stopped.

The hidden Jedi would have breathed a sigh of relief had he not been holding his breath.

"Fine," the young man said, although he did not sound convinced. "I am headed to Mustafar to end the Separatist alliance. See to it that you make certain there are no survivors."

_End the separatists? Isn't that a good thing?_

"Yes, sir," the clone replied quickly as his mysterious commander walked away. "You, check the dorms. You, check the hangar bays. You, check the council chamber. Move!" he commanded his fellow clones, who swiftly obeyed him.

Cal finally let himself breathe once he was certain that the non-clone was gone.

_Who was that? A Jedi gone rogue? A Sith apprentice?_ The twelve year old boy had no clue.

He was still concealed behind the statue, managing to calm himself enough to begin planning his escape.

_Sneak around to the ventilation shaft. _

He had crawled through the temple's vents many a time to escape boring classes or when he was playing with his friends.

_Friends..._He quickly perished the thought.

_Crawl down to the sewers, even though they reek worse than a herd of banthas. _

Cal wished there was an alternative to the unpleasant smelling route, but he could not think of one.

_Exit at the east side and make your way down to the underworld to be inconspicuous. _

The infamous Coruscant underworld was filled with every kind of scum and villainy.

It was the perfect place to not be noticed.

_Find new clothes and hide your lightsaber to avoid being recognized. _

Cal was sorry to have to shed his Jedi clothes, but he had no choice in the matter.

Terrified yet determined, Cal stood on his trembling legs to peek around his hiding place.

There were no clones nearby. With a deep breath and prayer, he dashed to the vent, briefly wondering if he was the very last of the Jedi...

Cal suddenly jerked awake.

He found himself kneeling on the floor of the small hangar, his hand still frozen on the starfighter's wing.

_Order 66. _

That was how he had escaped. For two years he had run out of terror, planet hopping and finding different odd jobs everywhere and anywhere he went.

Until he came to Bracca.

_Something I touched must have sparked a vision..._he realized after briefly remembering the events of the past few years.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of such thoughts, he finally lifted his hand, hardly brave enough to uncover what lay beneath.

The symbol of the Jedi.

It was a beautiful thing, with a shining lightsaber in the center and two rings around the edge. It was a symbol of light, hope, order, peace, and compassion.

A symbol that no being rallied behind anymore.

Struck by a powerful bolt of nostalgia, Cal carefully ran his hand over the blue icon, removing the grime that coated it. His hand left a clean, pale grey streak across the symbol, making it stand out even more than it had before.

_If only it still had meaning. If only it still had a purpose_.

The Jedi turned away from it, removing his hand and peering inside the cockpit.

He knew Jedi sometimes kept valuables inside, perhaps even a holocron.

Carefully, Cal lifted the glass hatch of the cockpit, causing the dim outside light to seep in.

Nothing obvious jumped out at him. There was the seat, of course, but it was shredded at the edges and seemingly wearing away. The controls were all there, however the acceleration throttle was bent and various wires were sticking out. On the right were two small drawers for the owner's personal use. Often the Jedi would keep simple, small objects inside, like holoprojectors, comlinks, or even just rations for their various missions.

Curious, Cal gently opened the top drawer. It made a low creaking noise as it slid, revealing a small, crumpled piece of paper. On it was scribbled handwriting that seemed to have been written rather hurriedly.

_That's odd, _Cal thought as he moved to open the bottom drawer, not bothering to pick up the paper.

_I never heard of a Jedi that kept a diary or anything like that. _

Something metal seemed to rattle inside the drawer as he slowly pulled it open.

Filled with sudden anticipation, Cal swiftly jerked on the handle, causing the compartment to come out completely.

A small, silver object rolled across the rusted metal container towards the gravity pulling it. It made a soft, comforting clinking sound as it moved.

Shocked by what he saw, the Jedi did not need to look any closer to know what- and whose- it was.


	5. Chapter4:SeedoftheJourney

So...did you all guess what that object was? Well, here's your answer!

**_Chapter 4: Seed of the Journey_**

His master's lightsaber.

Cal hardly dared to even touch it. It had the same silver design his master had had.

It had the same pale grey grip, and when Cal found the courage to pick it up and ignite the blade, it shined the same bright blue it had five years ago.

The only change was the bottom of the hilt was scorched, leaving it with black marks and various wires sticking out.

The padawan almost felt as if he was on a mission with his master again, wielding their blue sabers of light and eradicating every evil thing in their path. His mind whirled with memories as he went through the basics of lightsaber form in the small hangar bay. The beam made him feel safe, as if he were home again. Home in his room, fighting imaginary enemies with his less-than-adequate skill to actually fight a Sith.

As he began to focus, the severely neglected Force within him awakened, beginning to connect with the kyber crystal wedged inside the hilt of the blade.

_The kyber crystal._

Cal suddenly stopped his play and stared at the blue light the crystal emitted.

_What am I going to do with this?_

If he kept it, he would have to keep it hidden very well, something that had proved challenging when he had attempted to do it with his own lightsaber years ago. And he would have to try even harder to keep it from the hands of the guild, who would surely take its crystal the moment they laid their greedy eyes on it.

Or he could take the crystal...

...No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't strip his master's lightsaber of its power source. Cal just couldn't do that to something that meant so much to him.

But how could he hold on to it? The overseers of the guild checked every nook and cranny of every dorm room weekly for valuables the scrappers had kept for themselves. They even checked the sewer systems for items that had been flushed to be hidden or disposed of. And not to mention there were metal detectors at every corner. Cal was well aware of the consequences that came out of breaking the rule, and the more valuable the item, the worse the punishment was.

The security of such a seemingly dysfunctional organization was impressive, to say the least.

Cal deactivated the blade and rolled the hilt in his palm, thinking of how he could keep it. He had to keep it. For what other option was there? He could keep the blade and come up with some crazy idea to keep it hidden, or he could strip it of its crystal and take an admittedly much-needed break, but destroy all chances of ever wielding a lightsaber again as a result.

To Cal Kestis, to an ex-Jedi, there was only one option.

Sure of his choice, Cal hid the weapon in a pocket of his leather work clothes and was about to leave when he suddenly remembered something.

_What was on that piece of paper?_

His curiosity got the better of him. Cal walked back to the fighter and carefully picked up the stained paper from the drawer in the cockpit. The writing was faded and the page was crumpled, making reading difficult.

But even still, he made out the words.

_The purge has happened. Many of us felt something coming. But no one, perhaps not even Master Windu or Master Yoda, knew it was on this level of evil. The clones are killing their Jedi generals one by one. Soon, my battalion will return to my location, and I will join the deceased in the cosmic Force. Because there is no death. There is the Force._

Cal felt his hand shaking as he read, causing the paper to rattle.

_Maybe someday, the Jedi will return. I only hope my padawan survives. The boy has flaws, as we all do. But he is strong and smart, and a cunning fighter. Cal, if by any chance you are reading this, I am proud of you._

_Perhaps you, Cal Kestis, will be the new hope the galaxy will need one day. Or perhaps you won't be._

_After all, the fancy title of "Chosen One" was given to the Skywalker boy, not you._

_But I sense you have a road ahead of you, a road filled with purpose. And because of that, I believe you are to survive._

_If I'm wrong, then I guess this letter is pointless, just a waste of my last moments in this physical universe._

_Whomever is reading my words,_

_May the Force be with you._

—————————————————————————————————

For many, the bar was the only place one could relax and have fun. With its bright, flashing neon lights, large television screens showing sports and headlines left and right, radios playing music rather loudly, and alcoholic drinks from every corner of the galaxy, it attracted much attention from the locals. Members of the scrapper guild often took their food earned for a day's work and ate there, finding their friends and laughing at jokes that were not even funny as they drank themselves into utter stupidity.

Cal Kestis chose only to eat his provided meal at the busy bar rather than buy the many strange liquids on the menu. Jedi were forbidden to consume alcohol, and Cal knew he would never try it anyway. The smell certainly wasn't inviting, nor was the strange behavior of those who partook in it.

He shot a sideways glance at a twi'lek man falling backwards onto a table and shattering the glass cups, hysterically laughing all the while. Occurrences like that were less than uncommon.

The Jedi found his usual table near the window and sat down with his small reward for the day's laborious work. His master's lightsaber banged against his hip as he sank into his backless chair, the cool metal hilt constantly reminding him it was there.

Typically he ate alone, although sometimes a stranger would sit with him, not usually making conversation.

But today, Cal felt a rare sense of happiness upon seeing a certain abednedo open the door to the bar.

"Hey, Cal. How ya doin'?" Prauf asked warmly and plopped into the chair across from the padawan.

Cal grinned, realizing for the first time in years he was in the company of someone he considered a friend. "Tired, Prauf. As usual," he replied and covered his mouth as he swallowed a yawn. "How was your day? Didn't die, huh?" Cal asked playfully to the veteran rigger.

Prauf chuckled at his remark. "Nope, I'm still here. Nothin' exciting happened today for me. You find anything interesting, kid?"

The Jedi was slightly caught off guard by the question, but kept his casual composure.

"No, nothing of value. Just same old malfunctioning droids and broken hodgepodge."

_I only found a Jedi starfighter, a lightsaber, and a kyber crystal inside the weapon. Nothing of value, indeed,_ Cal thought with a bit of pride.

He had succeeded in boarding the train without the lightsaber being discovered, but he knew it was not going to be that easy forever.

"Ah, well. You'll find a kyber cave in one of those hunks of junk tomorrow, don't worry," Prauf assured him sarcastically as he began eating his own simple meal.

"Yeah, right," Cal replied and also began eating. His jaw swiftly reminded him of the morning encounter as he bit into a particularly hard piece of meat from an unknown animal. Cal tried his best to ignore it, knowing he only had a narrow time window for dinner.

For a minute or two they were silent as both hungry workers enjoyed their meal until the old abednedo spoke up.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. Some togruta feller broke his arm like a twig setting up a clamp this morning, and you've been chosen as his replacement."

That got the young cutter's attention in a hurry.

"They want me? But there are a lot more experienced cutters that would do a better job than I ever could!" Cal exclaimed, and found himself anxious about the decision his higher-ups had made. Rigging was dangerous work, not to mention grueling and difficult. Only the best and toughest were given that position in the guild.

They were the only ones that could do it.

Prauf shrugged, seeming unconcerned. "Don't ask me why they want you, boy. I ain't got a clue. Don't worry, I'll show you the ropes to the basics. You seem to catch on quick, so it shouldn't be an issue."

Prauf seemed like he really wanted Cal to do it, which struck the Jedi as odd.

"I saw it as a compliment towards you, actually. Shows they think highly of someone so young and fresh as yourself," he continued, seeming to try and seal the deal.

Cal swept his dirty, reddish hair away from his eyes and looked at the head rigger inquisitively, raising an eyebrow to add to his effect.

"Why do you want me to do this so badly? You and I both know there are many people better qualified for this task than I am."

The abednedo glanced down, hiding an embarrassed smile in the dark shadows.

"Well, even if you're a bad liar, you can still see through a fib, huh? You're right, kid. There's a lot of people I can think of that are probably better candidates for this. But I like you. I sort of saw something in you this morning that struck me as different. So I chose you. That okay?" he admitted rather quickly, as if he was glad to just blurt out the truth.

Some of the padawan's rules rang in his mind as he thought over Prauf's words.

_Don't stand out._ Had he stood out too much to this seemingly kind rigger? What had he done that morning that had caused him to stick out? What mistake had he made?

_Trust no one._ Could he trust this friendly abednedo? Was he using him? Or was he truly sincere? As a Jedi on the run, trusting no one had proven to be a golden rule. Cal sensed that Prauf was telling the truth, but was it the whole truth? What other options were there besides agreeing to his offer?

Kestis sighed, exhausted from his exhilarating day. It would just be a few days, he told himself. Soon enough the original guy would be back, and all would be normal. Or would it be?

"Okay, fine. I'll do it. Where can I find my gear?"

———————————————————————————————

After receiving the necessary apparatus for rigging from Prauf, Cal had made the mile walk back to his room from the bar and had practically collapsed into bed when he realized he'd overlooked something crucial.

In his excitement and bewilderment at finding his master's weapon, he had completely forgotten that the weekly room checks were tonight.

And he had no idea how he was going to hide his lightsaber.

No doubt it would be found; the overseers looked under your bed, in your drawers, inside your pillows, in your toilet, and even checked all of your clothes. There was no hiding anything without doing something really clever, really fast.

But if he was lucky, he might get searched by Llecko. The old sullustan overseer was so dumb he was rumored to be retarded. Chances are, Llecko would not even know what a lightsaber was. All Cal could do now was wait and hope he was fortunate enough to get the infamous sullustan.

_Otherwise, I'm dead tomorrow. _The Jedi allowed himself to lay on his cot, as he was good at keeping himself awake. When you're wanted by the empire, staying awake even when you're exhausted wasn't hard. Eating that night had been terribly uncomfortable thanks to the punch Jorvis had thrown that morning, but Cal had still gotten through his food quickly.

The padawan felt a twinge of the desire for revenge towards the bully. But he knew better than to try for it. Besides, the Jedi Order strongly prohibited it. Revenge led you down a dark path, one that was near impossible to escape. And Cal had no need for further complications in his life.

As he shifted his weight, he heard the faint crunch of the precious paper he had found that morning in his pocket. Carefully, he removed it and began to read it once more. If he were a girl or a child he would have cried over it, but instead his throat seemed to create a rock that he couldn't swallow.

_A road filled with purpose_, his master had written. What purpose could he serve? What had his master seen in him that he himself did not?

Being a cutter for a group of glorified scavengers certainly didn't feel fulfilling. And he was only seventeen years old, still considered to be a child by some. What if he would be stuck here until he was forty? Or what if everything would change today when his lightsaber would be inevitably discovered?

Cal realized the latter was very likely, which made him even more uneasy as the seconds ticked by.

_I am proud of you. _His master had said that as well. If only he could have heard the words in person.

For the short year of him being a padawan, his only goal had been to make his master proud. And only now, five years after his master's death, he had seen the words on the crumpled piece of paper hidden inside the drawer of the beautiful blue Jedi starfighter.

Cal stared up at the ceiling as he laid on his back, thinking hard about so many things for maybe twenty minutes until his old doorbell buzzed like a dying insect.

The overseer was here. _May the force be with me,_ Cal wished for himself as he stood up and pushed a red button on the wall, opening the door to his room.


	6. Chapter5:ASecretNoLonger

Threw some good ol' comic relief in this one before the Big Bang. Enjoy!

**_Chapter 5: A Secret No Longer_**

Cal could have jumped for joy when he saw the round, wrinkled face of a familiar sullustan at his doorway.

The Jedi couldn't believe his luck. The overseer that had been assigned to him was exactly the guy he'd hoped for.

"Hey, boy. I coming in to check on you stuff."

Cal tried not to laugh at his guest's poor Basic grammar as he stepped away from the door, allowing Llecko inside.

"Yup, I'm ready for you, pal. Take a look around, I have nothing to hide," he lied smoothly.

Lying had felt horrible when he first had to do it after the purge, but now it came easily.

The Jedi wondered for a moment if that was a good or a bad thing to become comfortable with. But he felt sure the precious lightsaber was worth the deceit.

It had to be.

"So, no see nothing as of yet," the sullustan remarked half way to himself as he carelessly yanked open drawers and even threw the blanket off of the padawan's bed, looking for anything Cal might be hiding. Even Llecko was always thorough. But hopefully, he'd forget the body check.

The silver hilt of the Jedi weapon was slick with grime and sweat inside Cal's worn orange and grey leather jacket. _Please, please forget it_, Cal prayed silently as the clumsy overseer took the thin animal hide cushions off of his two chairs and shook them for no real reason. The inspection didn't take long; the room was tiny.

"All right, your stuff good. Need check you clothes now."

The Jedi briefly froze, caught off guard, and tried as hard as possible to act casual.

"Sure, have at it," he blurted nervously, and opened his pockets. The lightsaber was going to be discovered. There was no denying that simple fact.

The pocket with the ancient weapon was the last zipper the sullustan opened.

"What this?" he asked dumbly, seeming slightly mesmerized by the beautiful object in his slimy, brown hand.

For a moment Cal seriously considered using an old Jedi mind trick. But he caught himself, knowing the severe consequences that could follow. _Just wait. Patience. Maybe he won't take it._

"Is a valuable?" the overseer asked as he rubbed his hands on the hilt, his large dark eyes seeming huge with awe.

Cal laughed anxiously. "No, uh, it's just a...um...flashlight."

_Cal, you idiot, that was so stupid, why would you say it's a flashlight…_

"Flashlight? This turn it on?" he asked curiously as he moved his thumb towards a button on the side.

Cal almost stopped him in horror.

That button would ignite the blade.

_I'm so dead. _

Making certain he was far away enough from the weapon, Cal waited for agonizing seconds before the stubby little thumb of the alien pushed the activator.

The brilliant blue light sprung out of the hilt with an all too familiar whoosh.

The pupils of Llecko's eyes grew so large at the incredible sight that Cal was half expecting them to pop out of his round, wrinkled head. "This...this Jedi weapon?" he asked in a harsh, amazed whisper.

_Oh, terrific._ _He's smarter than I thought. _

"Uh, no, it's a, um...a fake one." Cal felt himself cringe at his own explanation.

"You sure? It seem real to Llecko."

The boy swallowed loudly in anxiety, unable to come up with an answer.

"Llecko take this to authority. I no choice. Jedi weapon valuable," Llecko stated, his tone almost seeming apologetic towards the bewildered teenager.

Crazy thoughts began crossing Cal's mind as the sullustan moved to leave, taking his master's blade and every hope for the future with him…

"Llecko."

The overseer turned to face him, startled.

_Relax. Breathe. Focus on his mind. Focus on the Force. Forget everything else. Believe you can succeed. You can do this, Jedi._

"You will return the lightsaber to me," the Jedi said calmly, smoothly gliding his hand across the perplexed face of the sullustan as he spoke. The alien's expression turned blank, and his eyes instantly became glazed in the trance of Cal's mink trick.

"I will return the lightsaber to you."

After saying his first sentence in proper grammar, Llecko reached into his bag and removed the lightsaber.

He slowly, almost robotically outstretched his hand towards Cal, staring at him blankly as he waited for him to take it.

The trance was working wonders.

Scared to reach for the blade for fear of the mind trick losing its effect, Cal kept his right hand outstretched as he gently picked up the lightsaber from the sullustan. He couldn't believe the mind trick had worked. Never had he done it before, only practiced on imaginary foes when he was younger.

It was strangely fun.

Once more locking eyes with Llecko, Cal subtly waved his hand as he spoke again.

"You will forget everything that happened here."

A moment of silence. The padawan's heart stopped for a second, worried he'd messed up, before it finally worked.

"I will forget everything that happened here."

And with that, the overseer turned and left, leaving Cal to stand frozen in his room, tightly holding his precious saber and leaving his mouth wide open in amazement at the fact he'd pulled the Force power off.

But the Jedi survivor was well aware that things were going to get interesting very soon.

———————————————————————————————

"So, you see, the magnet goes on top of this slab here, and then you attach the clamp by pressing it down for a couple of seconds and flipping this switch," Prauf explained to a slightly confused Cal on the Venator's exterior hangar door.

Rigging had been much more complicated than the young cutter had imagined; there were so many steps and precautions involved. It was so far proving difficult to remember everything the experienced abednedo was telling him.

And it didn't help that his mind was far off in the clouds, constantly worrying about the mind trick he'd performed last night or having his lightsaber discovered.

Or messing up while rigging, for that was easily just as deadly as being caught with a Jedi's weapon. With that in mind, he tried desperately to pay attention to his much more experienced co-worker, knowing his life may very well depend on it.

"Okay, I think I get it. What if the magnet doesn't connect and I thought it did?" Cal felt dumb for asking the question. But he had to know if any mistake would mean automatic death by Sarlacc.

Prauf causally shrugged. "Then the ship'll detach and we'll all slide to our doom."

He seemed to notice Cal's small shudder at the thought.

"Don't worry, it won't happen. Have a little faith."

The padawan smiled his thanks. The weather was particularly bad today. Usually it was just rain, but now it was a fierce thunder and lightning storm. The bolts of electricity lit up the dark early morning sky as the group of riggers headed towards their assigned Venator.

When Cal has first come to Bracca, the storms had scared him a bit, seeing as they were dealing with metal and were practically in the sky there were so high up, but he'd learned that there were far more likely causes of death than being struck by lightning. As far as he knew it had only happened once, and the victim only had facial scars and no real damage.

Even still, Cal would rather not have red lines drawn across his face by electricity. He was perfectly content with the fact that he had no obvious scars.

Not that he had had time to get any while he was a Jedi, anyways.

Prauf had been fooling with a rope and another tool while the padawan had been thinking. It was quarter to five in the morning, and they still hadn't gotten everything set up yet.

"Hey, are we almost done getting ready? We need to start before the pilots get here. And I'm still a bit confused about this."

The head abednedo looked up from coiling his rope to answer. "Yeah, I just need to attach this last clamp. Seeing as you're still green, you want to help?" he offered off the top of his head to Cal.

"Sure. I promise I'll remember everything this time. Third time's the charm."

Prauf chuckled. "I'd be impressed if you learned it in three tries, kid. Not many people catch on quick."

Cal shrugged and smiled a cocky grin. "Then prepare to be impressed, Mr. Head Rigger."

With a good hearted laugh, Prauf waved him over and they walked across the wet and tilted Republic ship's exterior hangar doors. The long metal clamps were attached to its bow, stern, port side and starboard side, with three on each side. All of them were secure except the middle one on the port side of the ship, which was the clamp the two friends were going to attach. The clamps held the ship upright after the cutters sliced them in half, and the pilots attached their cargo vessels' magnetizers to the massive piece and picked it up off the ground. The treacherous part was that the riggers had to stay on the bisected cruiser, and if only one clamp came loose they would all slide down the half ship to be eaten alive by the junkyard's resident sarlacc pit once their plummet down the slippery ship ended.

It had happened a few times too many.

So to ensure his and everyone else's survival, Cal paid close attention to everything Prauf was doing with the clamp before attempting it himself. First, put down the bottom plate, then insert the small but powerful magnet, then put the clamp inside, and then tighten it with the badly rusted screws to the bottom plate. If a screw wasn't quite tight enough, or the long piece wasn't quite centered, all was lost.

Cal wondered if this was what it was like to be a neurosurgeon. Pull one wrong string in that wonderful, terrible thing with so many tiny parts and functions, and somebody dies. And it's all on you.

With one last attempt to tighten the fourth and final screw, Cal stepped back and brushed off his rust-covered hands. He'd noticed that after doing three clamps his hands had started tearing and blistering. Gloves would have been a good idea.

"Looks good, Cal. You impressed me. Now let's call the cutters over and tell 'em we're ready to go," Prauf commended his much younger friend, and commed the cutter's channel so they would begin slicing the ship.

"Make sure you're standing on the port side. You don't want to get left behind on this hunk of junk, I can assure you," he strongly advised Cal upon clicking off his comlink. Hastily complying, Cal took a quick step to the far end of the ship as he began to hear the cutters slicing through the impressive battle cruiser that was slightly buried in Bracca's cold, muddy ground.

Some blue flares from one of the ship's engines would sometimes spark, like an old landspeeder giving one last puff of gasoline fumes before dying out. These wonderful old ships would never fly against the droid armies of the Confederacy of Independent Systems ever again. Never again would they mow down vulture droids and hyena class bombers or tri-fighters, and never again would they deploy dozens of ARC and V-wing fighters into epic, thrilling space battle. The galaxy changed. And its constituents had to change with it, whether they wanted to or not. No longer were systems controlled by the separatists, or under the protection of the Republic and the renowned Jedi Order.

Now they were all under the jurisdiction of a sinister, and, unbeknownst to many, Sith empire. Even scavengers like the Scrappers were affected. Stormtroopers were like mosquitoes on Bracca; not a lot of them but just enough to annoy you. A constant little buzzing in your ear, reminding you of how things were then and how they are now. Black, round Imperial Probe droids with strange tentacle like appendages were always present during the rigging process as well, recording every movement of every worker in case of foul play. AT-ST scout walkers patrolled the lower levels, ready for intense combat that would likely never occur. The large satellite-shaped cutting droids began firing a hot orange laser beam down the middle of the cruiser, slicing it as easily as a lightsaber could cut a tree.

A sudden jolt on the ship startled Cal, but he quickly regained his balance. The cutters had finished bisecting the cruiser, and now the pilots had attached their apparatus and were beginning to lift the port side of the Venator and the riggers on it. The large cargo vessels seemed to groan with the weight of the colossal ship's port side as they slowly separated one half from the other. The clamps were taught, and seemed to be holding up fine.

At least, Cal certainly hoped so. "Is everything going well?" The Jedi shouted to Prauf over the engine noise of the vessels above them.

Prauf swiftly nodded a few times. "Yep. Clamps look like they're holding up normally, just keep your footing and you'll be fine," he assured Cal as they began to rise even higher.

The Sarlacc pit was now directly under them, which was more than a bit unnerving. Its dozen tentacles swayed for no purpose, waiting for anything or anyone to drop into the large, beak-shaped mouth below so it could devour its prey for what was rumoured to be thousands of years.

Cal didn't believe the legend, but he certainly wasn't interested in disproving it. Besides, even if he did succeed in disproving it, he wouldn't live to tell the tale.

A loud clang of metal alarmed the only two riggers aboard the airborne half-ship. Both spun around and stared at each other anxiously.

_Oh gosh, something's wrong. We're gonna die,_ Cal realized upon noticing that Prauf looked scared as well.

Another sound rang through the air, loud enough that it was audible over the roaring thunder and lightning. This time, the two friends saw the source after their ears told them where the disturbing sound was coming from.

One of the clamps was snapping.

More small parts began to strain and break in split seconds. The rusted metal fibers were separating as easily as sticks of butter until the entire clamp finally split in two with a horrible screeching sound that seemed to announce the severity of the situation.

"Cal, look out!"

There was no time to do anything. There was no way to do anything to stop it.

The cruiser started tilting upwards at a moment's notice, its support that had held it upright broken. It tilted like a sinking water cruiser, sending various parts and random hodgepodge tumbling down the edge and straight towards the open mouth of the Sarlacc, moving swiftly but sometimes being stopped by something unknown, like the raindrops on the window of the train.

It had been maybe two seconds. Cal's mind was racing, and his heartbeat felt like it had during Order 66 when that mysterious man was feet away from him. He had barely heard Prauf's unless warning before his feet slipped out from under him and he began sliding down the slick, wet ship so fast he barely had the time to think about what he thought was going to be his last thought…

...until the plummet ended out of nowhere.

Cal's backside suddenly made an impact with something on the vertically tilted ship, so swiftly that the wind was knocked right out of him. A figure slid past his line of sight immediately after, so quickly it was like a blur. The spared Jedi consciously tried to focus his gaze on the figure, whom he somehow realized amidst all of the fast-paced chaos that it could be only one person.

"Prauf!"

His friend, the friendly old abednedo that had come to his rescue yesterday morning and had been the first person since the purge to ever present himself as a friend to Cal, and none other than head rigger of the Scrapper Guild, was falling towards the Sarlacc faster than the padawan could almost comprehend. His face showed terror, shock, and a twinge of regret. His short arms were limp as he plummeted, as were his legs also. His last moments were coming in a hurry, with only Cal Kestis there to witness as he hung upside down on coiled cooling tubes that had gotten stuck at just the right place.

Neither of them had time to think. Neither of them even had time to realize what was happening.

All the Jedi knew was that when he outstretched his hand and gripped his doomed friend with his mind, time seemed to come to a screeching halt.

In one moment, Prauf was falling. The next, he was magically floating, perfectly suspended above the pit of waiting teeth and tentacles.

The lightning was still flashing.

Random parts continued to swiftly fall into the beast's jaws.

But the abednedo was perfectly still.

Out of the breath from the recent impact, Cal groaned with effort as he focused his entire being into levitating his friend. His breathing was unsteady and his mind was racing, making it even more difficult to focus the abandoned power within him on moving Prauf to safety.

He didn't even know where safety was.

All he knew in that moment was that he was wielding the Force, and he was being watched.

Cal glanced at the shiny probe droid intently observing him just before he shut his eyes to focus. Seeing was somehow easier with your eyes closed when the Force was involved.

The nearby cargo ship's ramp was down. He could move Prauf there.

Panting as if he'd just sprinted for miles, Cal reached his arm out further and shifted it right, towards the ship's ramp and the waiting loaders who had apparently puzzled out the whole ordeal. His connection to the energy was weak, and his grip was so tight it was as if it was slipping through his fingers. Five years of neglecting the Force was taking its toll.

Cal could see through his mind that he had only a few feet to go before he could at last release his hold on his no doubt mesmerized friend. Everything else was faint. The crashing lightning and thunder was like soft background noise, and the chatter of the loaders was nearly inaudible. He was close, so close to getting Prauf to safety. He could see and feel it through closed eyes as he strained his mind to move the abednedo just one more foot. Prauf's head was now in the ship, and now were his arms…

..and at last, after maybe thirty seconds of levitation, his feet lightly touched the floor of the cargo ship.

Cal let go of the hold like it was a thermal detonator. Immediately his eyes flew open and he gasped for air, having drained much of his energy on the maneuver. The probe had no doubt recorded the entire event, but it was possible Cal's face hadn't been identified since his hood completely covered his head.

But they were good. They could find anybody.

Still suspended high in the air by the cooling tubes, the exhausted Jedi Padawan already knew he had two things he had to do, as soon as possible.

Get down from here.

And run.


	7. Chapter6:Hunted

Starting this one off with a bang! It starts to get intense in this chapter, so soak it up and read Chapter 7 when you're done!

**_Chapter 6: Hunted_**

Most would be terrified out of their minds in his presence. His robotic breathing filled the entire room. His long black cape touched the floor when he stood. His mask showed no sign of a human being beneath it. He was an evil machine with a human nature somewhere down deep. A Sith apprentice. Second in command of the Empire.

It was Darth Vader.

The Second Sister was not afraid of her master. Because she too, was powerful. And she was also capable of incredible intimidation. But nothing and nobody made Vader even flinch. The Sister admired that and many other things about him greatly. She wanted to be like him. At the right hand of the Emperor, in a place of unimaginable power and authority with only one person to call Master. One day, she often told herself, _she_ would be Vader.

But now was not the time for such thoughts. An intriguing report had come from a muddy, wet and scavenger planet called Bracca. And it included something that Vader wanted to find more than anything else.

A Jedi.

"Lord Vader," she said without revealing any sign of emotion as she stepped inside the office. The automatic door closed with a whoosh inches behind her. Her master was facing the window, staring out at the endless, dark space with its beautiful glittering stars flickering in the distance. It was ominous, mysterious, and seemed so fascinating and somehow powerful. _Much like Vader,_ the inquisitor thought as she waited for him to acknowledge her.

"Inquisitor. I sense you have news for me." His voice was deep and hollow, altered by the machine he was consumed by. A small trace of a seemingly young man's voice was detectable in it, however. Something that wasn't robotic and programmed. Something strangely human.

She straightened upon hearing her title. "Yes, Master. Reports from one of our security probes on Bracca indicate that a Force user is in hiding there," she announced, not wasting any time. Quick, simple facts kept you alive in the Empire's chain of command. Fluffy and frivolous weren't acceptable.

At this, Darth Vader turned to face her, his bottom half hidden by his half-circle desk featuring a holomap and other random objects that the sister could not identify. "A Jedi on Bracca? Is there proof?" he asked, intentionally sounding nonchalant to hide his intrigue.

The Sister could see right through anyone's mannerisms. Getting his genuine attention was a hard thing to come by. She felt a twinge of strange pride at the accomplishment.

"Yes, Lord Vader. Our probe captured footage of a hooded figure using the Force to save an alien from falling into a Sarlacc pit. We were not able to identify his face," she informed him, immediately knowing she needed to add solutions to the issue. "But I have a few suspects that I would like to find out more about. Shall I begin hunting this Jedi survivor, or does your vision see a different path?" she asked, hoping he wanted her to take on the challenge, especially since her other master, The Grand Inquisitor, was doing some special assignment on the farming planet of Raada.

Doing the actual job of an Imperial Inquisitor was rare, and she wanted nothing more than to wipe out the Jedi completely. She had her own reasons. And nobody else needed to know them. They were her secrets, her personal desires and motives.

And hers only.

Vader was silent as he seemed to think, minus his loud breathing that seemed to slow time like a ticking clock. After what the sister had counted to be six breaths, he spoke, having made his decision.

"No, Second Sister, I share your vision. See to it that you find this Jedi immediately. And when you do," he said and paused as he strode towards her, his stature causing her to tilt her also masked head slightly upwards.

"Bring him to me."

She was surprised by his request, but made no indication of it.

"Yes, Master. It will be done."

——————————————————————————————

"Cal, you...you didn't have to do that, you know."

"Maybe not. But I did it. So that's that."

He had done it. The once Jedi padawan had used the Force openly, and now he knew he would forever be on the run, forever live in fear of the Empire and its seemingly infinite forces. Unless he fought back.

But that was impossible.

After Cal had gotten Prauf onto the cargo ship, the loaders had flown under him and he'd let himself drop down. Some looked like they were afraid to be near him. Others looked like they were trying to figure out how to keep the whole ordeal a secret. And a few looked like they'd just witnessed something that wasn't even possible. They looked as if they thought they had hallucinated.

Luckily, they had been willing to help him. Cal had been on the verge of passing out from exhaustion after the whole ordeal, but instead he'd fled back to the streets to blend in and eventually landed in the bar.

No doubt the probe had transmitted the footage to the Empire, and no doubt they were looking for him. Sudden stormtrooper chatter outside nearly made him activate his still concealed lightsaber.

_Don't be so jumpy. Get used to being a fugitive again, Jedi._

"How did you survive? The purge, I mean. I had thought the Jedi were extinct," Prauf whispered after glancing towards the stormtroopers that had startled Cal.

The padawan didn't want to talk about it. If the Empire figured out that Prauf knew about the force sensitive boy caught on camera, he'd be in danger too. And if Prauf died, then his crazy feat would be for nothing.

"Look, Prauf, does that really matter? Chances are the Empire is sending their best to find me right now, and if you know anything you'll be in danger too. All I need you to do is not tell a soul anything about me. Okay?" he asked, hoping his trust in the abednedo hadn't been ill-placed.

The rigger sighed and looked out the rain-covered window at the stormtroopers again, thinking.

"Okay. I understand. But what are you going to do?"

Cal wished he knew the exact answer. Leave Bracca? Hide in the streets? Go back to the guild like nothing ever happened? Fight the Empire? The choices all seemed impossible.

"I'm going to act as normally as possible. I'll go back to the guild house and start planning there. Most likely I'll leave Bracca and go to some backwater outer rim planet like Tatooine or Lothal. Somewhere I won't be noticed," he formulated as he spoke.

But Prauf seemed disappointed. "But..you're a Jedi, Cal!" he whispered harshly, sounding excited. "You can fight the Empire. Free Bracca! Free the entire galaxy! You have this magical power that can do more than I probably even know. Why not use it?" he asked, confused by Cal's desire to hide.

The Jedi shook his head at Prauf's suggestion. "Prauf, you don't understand. The Empire isn't just some dumb stormtrooper recruits and a couple of TIE fighters. It's Sith. The Emperor is a Sith Lord, and he has this mysterious cyborg apprentice that I really don't know much about. He might have special agents that are hunting me down right now for all I know. It's not that simple!" he hotly explained as quietly as possible to avoid being noticed.

This whole thing was very frustrating to him. Plus, he was a nervous wreck.

Prauf seemed to recoil slightly at the reveal. "Sith? The Emperor is Sith? How? Why? Wait, what's a Sith?" he started asking dumbly in rapid fire, intrigued.

Cal exhaled purposefully loudly to let loose his irritation. "I can't explain that to you right now. Just keep your mouth zipped and be safe. I'm heading out," he announced as he forcefully pushed back his chair, stood up, and began walking out the door, leaving Prauf to stare a bit sadly at him.

He refused to look back as he stepped into the steady rain out in the streets. Cal let out a small sigh of relief as he passed the masked, white armored stormtrooper without conflict. He knew stormtroopers should be the least of his concerns. Most were just young men that didn't have anything to do with their life, so they signed up to be a soldier in the current menace of the galaxy. None of them knew that the Empire was this evil Sith dictatorship that would inevitably be the death of them and their families at one point or another.

They were oblivious and ignorant.

Sometimes Cal wished he was unaware of everything like they were. It sounded so much easier.

Cal didn't know who his family was, or if they were alive. He didn't even know where they lived. All Jedi, with the exception of Anakin Skywalker, were taken from their families as infants so they would not form attachments to their parents. It wasn't kidnapping; the parents usually approved of their Force-sensitive children becoming Jedi. Some did see it as child abduction, however, like the peaceful Togoyians of Bardotta. It had caused some minor conflicts between them and the Jedi before.

Cal had overheard that Skywalker hadn't come to the Jedi Order until he was nine years old, and he was made a padawan right away. Usually the infants were raised until around three or four years of age, and then they became younglings and trained under Grand Master Yoda and voluntary Padawans before passing their trials and being chosen by a master to become a padawan themselves at around the age of fifteen.

Cal, unlike most Jedi, didn't actually know what his home planet was. He obviously knew he was human, so it could be Corellia, Coruscant, Raxus, Naboo, Tatooine, Stewjon, Lothal, Gerell, Jakku, or any other planet that had a fair amount of human beings. It could be so many. All he knew was that he probably wouldn't ever meet his parents or siblings, if he had any.

He could live with that. His friends at the temple had been his brothers and sisters.

And he knew everything he needed to know about what happened to them.

Another guild member in the same orange and grey clothing roughly shoved past him as he continued his walk to the guild house, wary of stormtroopers and probes scattered about. Getting lost in thought was a good way to look casual, and it seemed to calm him down a bit despite the fact that most of his thoughts were depressing. He wasn't expecting to see a reforged clone wars MagnaGuard with a crackling purple electrostaff around the next corner, but he was still cautious. The Empire wanted nothing more than surviving Jedi to be exterminated. And if they wanted something, they didn't mess around. Cal didn't need personal experience to know that to be true.

A cold, dark wave of energy seemed to roll over him like a wave all of a sudden.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his shoes squeaking on the slippery wet ground. Cal knew this feeling. He'd felt it before, when that man commanding clones in the Jedi temple had been frighteningly near him. It was like a sharp, icy knife piercing through his heart, making him frozen and afraid.

The dark side of the Force was close. Very, very close. And it was powerful within a person. A Sith, or at least a dark force user, was eerily nearby.

The Jedi hardly dared to look for the individual. There was no doubt in his mind that this dark being was here for him, and that that person was working for the Emperor. It could be a Sith assassin. Or worse, the Emperor's personal apprentice. But Cal doubted the Emperor would send his most precious belonging to a muddy scavenger world just to find a supposed Force user.

At least, he certainly hoped so.

His eyes anxiously darted from person to person as he stood practically still in a puddle in the middle of the street as the rain continued to fall at a steady rate. He saw a young male rodian with a bent antenna, an old, battle-scarred ithorian with a cybernetic eye, a lithe little pink twi'lek female holding a drink and talking softly to a pantorran man, and some hooded guild members with deep voices talking amongst themselves in an alley. No one seemed like a lightsaber wielding Jedi hunter. At least, not at first glance.

The feeling was becoming more vivid. It seemed that the mysterious Force user was coming even closer. His nerves getting the better of him, Cal began to continue walking to the guild house as the sensation started intensifying. The chill of the darkness was so real he almost began to shiver. He started almost jogging, hoping and praying he wasn't being followed. The Jedi shoved past various people of various species as he nearly started running. He looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact when he reached a large crowd of guild members, and looked up again when he successfully past them.

And immediately froze, having seen what he knew to be the source of the dark energy surrounding him maybe ten feet in front of him.

The figure was slim and not much taller than Cal, suggesting she was female. She was covered in a fitted black suit and a black mask with red accents. The symbol of the Empire rested on each of her shoulders. A circular, silver hilt hung on her right hip, no doubt a lightsaber. She seemed to be looking for something or someone, peering around corners and looking at faces closely.

Cal couldn't find his legs. It was some kind of agent for the Empire, and she was here to find him.

His eyes were fixed on her as she inspected every nook and cranny of the dark, damp alleyway. She turned over rocks and opened random doors with her slender, gloved hands, leaving nothing unchecked for clues. Cal didn't know what to do. The guild house was in her direction, and there was no other way to get there. And he didn't know where he could go other than there. He took one step forward, determined not to let fear control him.

He only took one.

The mysterious female unexpectedly turned and faced him. No doubt she was looking right at him, despite the fact that her eyes were hidden from view. The invisible gaze was terrifying.

It was maybe a split second before Cal turned around and started running.

It was probably a dumb idea, but he did it anyways. He sprinted down the street, pushing past everyone and everything in his way. One elderly woman squealed as he shoved past her. He couldn't seem to find his voice to say sorry.

He was running faster than he even knew he could, not bothering to avoid deep puddles of rainwater or garbage on the filthy streets of Bracca. He suddenly tripped on a bent can and fell flat on his stomach, skidding across the ground upon impact and sliding through a puddle of dirty, brown water. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back up as quickly as possible and kept running, never daring to look over his shoulder. People cursed as he sprinted by and inadvertently bumped into some of them, but he didn't listen. He just wanted to get away. As far away as possible from the strange imperial and everything that could come with her.

The ex-padawan's fear was in full control.

————————-———————————————————————

It had been maybe seven minutes of running after a while.

By now, Cal didn't have a good idea of where he was. He didn't even know if the imperial had even chased him in the first place. He knew his legs felt like they would buckle under him at any given moment and his lungs felt like an empty vacuum of space. He knew he was probably going crazy and all of this running had possibly been for nothing. He knew his fear was guiding him like strings on a puppet.

But he didn't know if the masked woman had identified him at all.

Unable to maintain an all-out sprint any longer, his running slowed to a hurried walk as he turned into an unfamiliar corridor. Nobody was there, and it was very narrow. There was mold and moist moss hanging on the green-stained walls, dripping dirty water and causing the area to reek like most of Bracca's streets. A small, black mouse skittered into a hole, startled by its tall visitor. Cautious, Cal stepped further down the alleyway, careful not to step on the various garbage littered on the ground. A small crevice, just large enough for him to fit through, was cut into the right side of the corridor. When he peered inside, he says only a tiny room with nothing except mice inside it. Wary that someone could be inside, the Jedi made the tight fit and slid sideways through the opening, keeping his guard up as he entered. It was empty as far as he could tell, except for the resident little rodents. He knew how to find hidden doors in floors and walls, but after he did a quick inspection of the cracks in the interior, he found nothing. It was a good place to hide. The corridor was hard to see on the street, and not many people would he able to fit through the opening. Although the no doubt agile female imperial probably could.

Cal was too tired to care. He'd found somewhere to stay hidden, and that was all he needed. As far as he knew, nobody knew where he was. Letting out a deep breath, the exhausted Jedi let himself fall into a sitting position against the back wall.

Seconds later, he wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or passed out when everything went dark.


	8. Chapter7:FightorFlight

So, this one is really long but it's sort of my "season finale" Enjoy!

**_Chapter 7: Fight or Flight_**

Cal thought he was still dreaming when he heard the soft, cautious voice above him. He had dreamt of the imperial female wielding a red lightsaber that had two blades that spun like rotors on a helicopter.

They had sliced right through him as he stood frozen in terror, unable to move or defend himself with his own saber.

He dreamt of a masked cyborg with a deep, hollow, almost mechanical sounding breathing. It echoed off unknown walls, sending chills down anyone's spine. The cyborg had reached out his hand, and Cal had felt an invisible hand lift him up and grip his throat. His vision in the dream had begun blurring as the cyborg's hold tightened…

...until he heard the soft voice of someone familiar in the distant background.

"Cal."

Reality seemed to come back like a massive wave crashing down over him.

Cal suddenly awoke with a start and a gasp for breath, still in the tiny room tucked away in the narrow corridor he'd found last night. The encounters with the imperial and the cyborg had been so real he almost wondered if they were indeed reality.

But he quickly realized they couldn't have been, since he hadn't moved from this exact place.

The same voice repeated itself.

"Cal. It's me."

The Jedi's half-closed eyes wandered upwards to find the face of an all too familiar abednedo rigger dressed in the guild's yellow work clothes. "Prauf?" he exclaimed in shock and attempted to move backwards, only to slam the back of his head on the wall directly behind him. "What are you doing here? How'd you find me?" he demanded quickly, almost angrily. Prauf knelt down to meet his eyes, his expression warm. "Look, you saved my life, kid. I had to come let you know about something I found out concerning your little escapade. So listen." The Jedi stared blankly at him, waiting.

"The head guys of the guild told me that the empire is interviewing some of us on the north side of Bracca this morning. They're trying to find you, the Force-sensitive kid," he said with some variant of pride in his voice before taking a deep breath and continuing his explanation. "Anyways, I managed to find out who was getting interrogated. There were only a few people on the list, maybe a half dozen at the most. You and I were among them." Cal took a slight double take at the sudden information. "Interrogated? On the north side? But that's so far away!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper, not convinced they were alone. The side of Bracca they were living on was the south. To get to the north would take days unless they flew in a starship. And knowing the Empire, they probably would be escorted in a shuttle of some kind.

Prauf shrugged, hiding his worry. "I don't know why they're sending us all the way up there, to be totally honest. But there doesn't seem to be a way out of this. If we don't go, it'll be obvious that we know something. We're gonna have to brazen it out, Cal," he told the Jedi with a nervous sigh. Still slumped against the wall, Cal didn't reply, just let his mind go crazy with fearful thoughts of the masked imperial and this strange command the Empire had given them. His thoughts, however, were quickly interrupted by his friend. "What did you do last night? How did you end up here? I thought you were headed to the guild house." Prauf asked the Jedi curiously as he offered his hand to him. Accepting the gesture, Cal let his friend pull him to his unsteady feet. "It's kind of complicated. Long story short, I saw somebody dangerous looking on the way and ran in the other direction until I got here. How did you find me?" Cal asked upon explaining. Prauf smiled a little. "I used to come here all the time. It was my quiet and happy place. I haven't been here in easily a decade," he recalled, his tone suggesting nostalgia. "And as for looking for you here? I had a funny feeling you'd find this after I made sure you weren't at the guild house. Turns out I was right." Silence fell for a moment as the pair seemed to take in the tiny hideaway with much more respect. Nothing had changed about it physically; it was still a damp and dirty stone room cut into the wall of a narrow corridor; but their new perception of it seemed to change the way it looked. "What time is it?" Cal suddenly asked, realizing he didn't know how long he'd been asleep. Or knocked out.

"It's six in the morning. I snuck away from the overseers to find you. We have to report back to the guild house in thirty minutes so we can catch the shuttle to the north side." For the first time in his life Cal wished he hadn't gotten to sleep longer than usual. "Thirty minutes? It'll take that long just to get back! We'd better hurry," the Jedi declared as he began to squeeze through the crevice in the wall that served as a door, but stopped when he noticed Prauf wasn't following. "Are you coming?" Cal asked after he turned to face him. Prauf seemed thoughtful, like he knew something Cal didn't, which made the padawan nervous about his trust in him.

After a moment he snapped out of whatever he was wondering and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm right behind you."

——————————————————————————————

Cal was trying as hard as he possibly could to look calm. Everything about this scene he was in was giving him a reason to run like he had run from the mysterious imperial woman last night. Stormtroopers were everywhere. At least three dozen were present, more than Cal had ever seen in one place. A few probes wandered about, their whirring sounds seeming to pluck at his nerves like strings on an instrument every time they came near. A strange class of stormtroopers the Jedi had never seen or heard of before were also present and in high numbers. They wore dark grey and black suits and black masks, similar to the imperial woman. Most had long blaster rifles that Cal recognized to be reforged Republic weapons, but one carried a weapon Cal had never wished to see in person.

The trooper carried a crackling purple electrostaff.

The intimidating weapon had been used by the Separatist MagnaGuards, elite and frighteningly intelligent droids that could hold their own against Jedi. They had been the bodyguards of General Grievous, a lightsaber wielding cyborg and apprentice of the Sith Lord Count Dooku. Grievous had murdered countless Jedi and kept their lightsabers as trophies during the course of The Clone Wars. He was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi shortly before Order 66 was executed, and his master, Count Dooku, was killed by Anakin Skywalker and replaced by a strange new apprentice of the Emperor whose identity was a well-kept secret. The MagnaGuards, like the rest of the droid army, had been shut down after the rise of the Empire. And apparently the Emperor had liked their unique weapon design too much to get rid of it.

Cal knew that many Jedi had fallen victim to the electric staffs in the past. Anyone that wielded one was likely to be a formidable opponent, which led Cal to believe the trooper with the electrostaff was the leader of the mysterious black-suited class of soldiers. And they were not the only threatening thing present at the random cliffside on the north side of Bracca that morning.

The same masked imperial woman Cal had run from the night before was there. And it was very clear that she was in charge. The troopers followed her every movement and command without question or hesitation, especially the black-armored ones. She was their master. And she had no doubt coordinated this entire ordeal. She was looking for Cal.

Prauf stood close to him, seeming to want to offer support but also seeming to want it himself. Even for the innocent this setting was more than unnerving.

"Commander. Gather them up in a line. I wish to speak with them now."

Cal's heart skipped a beat upon hearing the woman's voice for the first time. It was a bit distorted under her mask, but a distinctive tone could still be made out in it. Her tone was emotionless, cold and commanding, suggesting complete confidence and authority over the situation and her troops. Cal had not the slightest clue what species she was. A voice wasn't enough to be sure.

His wondering was swiftly interrupted by one of the black armored troopers armed with a blaster rifle approaching him and Prauf. "This way," the soldier ordered and led them towards the imperial woman, his voice deep and a bit mumbled his under his mask. Cal's stomach felt like a bottomless pit of nerves as he and his abednedo friend complied with the trooper's command. His master's lightsaber was still concealed in his pocket. Every step he took made the silver hilt bump against his side, constantly giving him a subtle reminder of it. Prauf shot him a worried glance as they walked, his small, dark eyes seeming to ask what they were going to do to get out of this. Cal tried to give him a look suggesting calmness, but failed miserably. He was anything but calm.

The air on the north end of Bracca was wet and very cold. Cal had been to frigid planets before, but he had always had enough clothes to keep him warm.

Obviously the Empire wasn't overly concerned with their comfort.

More non-imperial faces began to come into their view, most wearing the same guild uniforms they were. The Empire must have chosen several suspects having possible relations to the Jedi's escapade at the shipyard. Cal recognized a Chiss pilot, with his species' signature blue skin, red eyes and black hair. It gave them a very sinister appearance, sometimes making it hard for them to have friends outside of their kin. A male rodian Cal recognized as being one of the loaders that had saved him after the event was also present. And there were a couple of familiar faces as well. A male, green skinned and blue-eyed mirilian was there, his expression showing he was thoroughly confused. Korter? Why is he here? Cal had to assume he had been the pilot of the ship that had flown under him when he was suspended over the Sarlacc. Apparently he was good at at least one thing. And then there was a bald and built individual that Cal knew all too well. Why the heck is Jorvis here? He wasn't a rigger in my sector that day. He couldn't have possibly been related to that. The Jedi hoped the probe had just identified a human male and assumed Jorvis to be a possibility. Otherwise, Cal was significantly worried about the reason he was here. He would definitely be the type to sell someone out to the Empire for a handful of credits without a second thought to what may happen to his victim. Cal had always wondered how and why he was part of the scrapper guild. He would make a fine bounty hunter or smuggler, and those were usually far better lives than what he had currently.

Cal supposed it didn't matter.

But maybe it did, because the rigger was approaching him now. And it was very obvious that he was approaching him specifically.

"Look who it is," he greeted Cal with distaste in his words and tone upon being face to face with him.

The Jedi felt strangely comforted by the opportunity to talk to someone familiar in this situation, even if it was someone he severely disliked.

"What are you doing here? You weren't even there when whoever it was did whatever he did. He or she used some magical power, right? The Force? Is that it's called? Maybe that person's a Jedi. But they're all dead, right? I don't know what that was, honestly," he dumbly blurted very quickly and very innocently, hoping he sounded as ignorant as he hoped he did.

But he did really want to know why Jorvis was here.

The taller man shrugged. "I don't know, kid. They told me to come and I'm not stupid enough to disobey them," he answered, for the first time seeming halfway friendly towards Cal.

Cal nodded in acknowledgment. "Yeah, I, uh, wouldn't defy them either. Doesn't sound like a smart thing to do," he agreed cautiously, wary of Jorvis and his motives.

Prauf was standing with the chiss man in the background and curiously observing the exchange between the two enemies.

Jorvis seemed to do his version of a small laugh and slapped a startled Cal on the shoulder.

"Well, good luck to you. Unless you're actually the Jedi, of course. Whoever it is needs to die with the rest of 'em," the rigger declared coldly and strode away to speak with the rodian.

"Uh, right," the Jedi muttered, taken aback by the comment.

The exchange had been very, very unusual. Jorvis was never even close to being as conversational as that. It left the ex-padawan worried about his real reason for being here.

There had to be more to it.

As soon as Jorvis was out of earshot, Prauf left the chiss and took to his friend's side.

"That was strange," he whispered to Cal. Cal sighed in a bit of frustration. "You don't know the half of it."

The moment he finished his sentence, the black armored trooper with the electrostaff started his own.

"Everyone, line up. My master wishes to ask you some questions now," he ordered gruffly and then continued. "If there is any attempt to escape this operation," he announced and brandished his sparkling purple weapon, causing the electricity to sizzle and pop and suggest the harm it could cause. "There will be consequences."

Cal swallowed a nonexistent rock in his throat as he, Prauf, Korter, Jorvis, the chiss, and the rodian all lined up in single file and faced the person who was most definitely the trooper's master.

"I am going to interview each and every one of you. I can see through any lie, so do not even think of attempting deception. I need truth and facts. My master and his master do not like waiting, so I will make this as swift as possible. I shall start with you," the masked imperial woman stated and stared directly at Prauf.

He stood firm, waiting for her first inquiry. Cal would be forever impressed by his courage. It had shown when he had first rescued him from Jorvis, but now it was more clear and prevalent than ever.

The Jedi wished he possessed that courage right now.

"I already know you were the alien that was saved, so there will be no need for you to lie to me about that matter," she informed him carelessly, as if to get the sentence out of her way. "My question is; do you know who it was who saved you?"

At this Prauf was caught off guard. He swallowed anxiously and shot a glance at Cal for maybe a split second.

_No, Prauf, no. Don't look at me._

Cal couldn't tell if the woman had looked at him because her eyes were hidden beneath her black mask, but he felt as if her powerful gaze had shot through him like a laser beam, piercing and shattering his few remaining nerves.

"No. I don't. I was working the starboard side and my colleague was working the port side of the ship. I don't know who he or she was," Prauf explained in a shockingly calm sounding tone.

Cal was impressed with his self-control, but he immediately knew that the alibi was seriously flawed.

"That is very convincing," the woman replied with a wave of her hand in a chilling and sarcastic manner.

"But my probe recorded the events before your colleague revealed himself to be a threat to the entire galaxy. And it shows you speaking with your colleague many times, and helping him with his work.

And most importantly," she added as Cal and Prauf stood frozen and waiting for the horrible truth,

"you said the name of that friend of yours numerous times.

So tell me; who here is named _Cal_?"

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Everyone knew the answer but was too afraid to say it. Everyone was so shocked and terrified they dared not move a muscle. Cal felt like his heartbeat would shatter his ribcage. He wasn't sure if his teeth were chattering from the biting cold winds of north Bracca or from his complete and utter terror. It was only a matter of time before someone owned up. And the Jedi had a feeling he knew who would.

"Lady, if I tell you, what's in it for me?"

It was exactly who Cal knew it would be.

_Jorvis. You're going to be the brutal death of me._

The woman turned to acknowledge the bald man with his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. Her subtle body language suggested she was very annoyed by the title of "lady" but very intrigued by the question.

"You'll leave here with your life and a handful of credits. And you will be offered a job in the imperial army if you'd like," she offered, seeming to notice his impressive strength.

To the surprise of everyone, Jorvis actually stepped towards her. Some of the black armored troopers raised their rifles at the bold move.

"Deal. But first, my reward."

Cal couldn't believe what was happening. What could he do? The amount of troops here was far too many to fight, and not to mention the woman's circular silver lightsaber hilt hanging at her hip. Prauf seemed to look apologetic, terrified, and courageous all at once.

Cal couldn't blame him. They were basically just waiting to die now.

"No. This is my operation, and you will follow my rules, scrapper. First, you tell me who the Jedi is. Then you will be paid," the woman growled with even more authority than usual in her distorted voice.

Jorvis looked hesitant, almost seeming to rethink his actions. Cal felt like everything was happening in agonizing slow motion.

_Hurry up and get on with it, you stinking idiot._

After his seemingly thoughtful and reflective moment, Jorvis slowly turned and raised his right hand towards the other five scrappers, and soon after he had lifted his hand, he uncurled his index finger and pointed it directly at the only other human present.

He held his hand there for a few long seconds, waiting for the woman to acquire her target.

Cal didn't move. He was fairly sure that he couldn't move anyways. Or think. Or breathe.

"So, that is Cal?" she asked Jorvis, who had finally lowered his hand.

"Yes," was all he said, his tone having more supposed compassion and reluctance than Cal had ever heard. But to his surprise, the imperial did not immediately advance towards the frozen boy.

Instead, she turned back to her informant. Cal sensed a chilling motive within her. It was extremely cold and sinister. It screamed the dark side.

"Thank you."

It happened so swiftly that everyone who was unfortunate enough to witness gasped in horror long seconds after it occurred. The blood red light ignited from its silver hilt with an incredible sound Cal was all too familiar with. Only the top half of the blade was visible. The rest was hidden behind its victim. Almost immediately after the lightsaber was ignited, its owner deactivated it and placed it with chilling and delicate elegance back on her hip. Her victim fell and crumbled in a lifeless heap on the hard ground seconds later, with an ominous and dark hole visible in his midsection.

"You have been very helpful."

Cal fought the overwhelming urge to scream at the merciless act he and his comrades had just witnessed. No one deserved that kind of deception or let alone that kind of death. It was unthinkable and unheard of, even on a planet as rough as Bracca. Shootouts happened. Some people were stabbed, some people were double-crossed, and some people had worse.

But not usually anything on that level.

Everyone's mesmerized eyes were locked onto the lightsaber wielding imperial killer, waiting for her to approach who would likely be her next victim. "So, Cal, you're going to be coming with me," she said cooly as she slowly approached him, her steps seeming to be specifically chosen and graceful to add to her already incredible intimidation. She finally reached him, at about an arms length from his face. "Come. My master, as I stated before, lacks... patience," she reminded him and took a step towards her shuttle, expecting him to follow suit. But Cal, on the other hand, didn't budge. He knew he couldn't go. Surrender wasn't an option. He knew that he didn't know anything the Empire didn't already, so no doubt he be killed in a similar fashion as Jorvis. It was either fight or flight. Those were the only choices. "I will not." She turned, and Cal could have sworn he saw her strong amusement at his sentiment despite the fact that her face was concealed. Prauf gaped at him in wonder at why he would say such a thing to her, a ruthless assassin in absolute authority. Cal was genuinely shocked by his own courage. Or maybe he was surprised by his utter stupidity. Either one was probably it.

The woman's tone turned very careless and seemed to have evil intentions written all over it. Cal suddenly wondered if he'd made a horrible mistake. "Very well, then," she seemingly agreed, but then lifted her hand and looked at her troops with rifles. "On my command."

_Oh no. No, no, no._

"Wait! Don't!"

She paid no heed to his plea. The troopers' rifles were aimed directly at the small, bewildered group of innocent bystanders. Everyone stepped back. Some muttered what Cal guessed to be prayers to various gods. Prauf looked at him comfortingly, seeming to try to tell him it wasn't his fault, and it was okay.

But it was definitely not okay.

The Jedi found himself wondering if it ever would be.

"Fire."

Everyone shut their eyes, believing they would never again open them to see the overcast and hazy sky of Bracca.

Only one boy even heard the blaster fire whizz by.

Only he heard the sound of people falling bonelessly to the hard, cold ground.

Only he opened his eyes again.

Cal knew the smell. He hadn't smelled burnt flesh since the Jedi purge.

He had hoped that would be the last time.

His eyes wandered to his left side. There was nothing and no one until he looked down. The mirilian, the chiss, the rodian, and the abednedo were all there. Dead on the ground, with a small trace of smoke coming from their chests.

All he could do was shout.

"NO!"

It was all he could say. It was all he was thinking. It was all he could think of the entire day, of the entire situation, of his entire life. But useless thoughts and regrets wouldn't keep him alive. A plan and composure would.

The imperial stood firm, her body language seeming to express carelessness and impatience.

She was not moved by the brutal order she had just given. Not in the slightest.

"And now," she began as Cal stared at her helplessly, "you will come with me." For some unfathomable reason to him, he didn't budge again. Something worse than getting shot had to be planned for him, he realized now through his sudden despair and anger. Otherwise, he would have been killed with the rest of the scrappers. And whatever it was was definitely not worth finding out.

The Jedi suddenly took a step back, startled as the sound of the imperial's red blade coming to life rang in his ears. She moved it so close to him he could feel its horrifying warmth. "Defiance will get you nowhere, boy. Perhaps I should just finish you here instead of carrying out my order to a tee," she suggested as she moved the scarlet beam even nearer to Cal, causing him to lean backwards in a desperate attempt to avoid its heat and blinding beam of light. He briefly wondered if she was going to simply cut him down right then and there until someone interrupted them.

"I'd be more than happy to carry out that order for you, Second Sister."

The voice was unfamiliar.

To Cal's surprise, the imperial woman also turned to see who had uttered the unexpected sentence. Approximately twenty feet to their right was a massive, yellow skinned creature easily seven feet tall and very large. Cal recognized it to be a female dowutin because she was actually smaller than most of her kind. Huge, hulking and with notoriously short tempers, dowathians weren't ones to be messed with. They could shatter you like glass with one hit. The Jedi also noticed that one of her massive feet, the left one, was cybernetic.

To the Cal's relief and surprise, the woman deactivated her saber and turned to address the dowutin whom Cal noticed was wearing very similar clothing. A black suit with the empire's symbol on her shoulder. The dowutin, however, only wore red lenses over her eyes instead of a full mask. Two, short tusks relative to her species protruded from either side of her chin. "Ninth Sister. I was under the impression that Vader assigned me this mission," the much smaller masked imperial greeted, seeming very annoyed by her supposed colleague's arrival. Cal was thoroughly confused, but was observing everything around him with great interest. He may have a chance to run while these two were distracted.

"Yes, well, I found out about your little assignment and couldn't resist. Looks like you've done the dirty work for me," the dowutin replied, her voice not as deep as Cal had anticipated.

She glanced down at the lifeless forms on the ground with just as little concern as her comrade, and then bore her intimidating gaze into Cal's bewildered one. "Is this it?" she asked upon looking up and down the much shorter ex-padawan, her tone suggesting slight surprise and major disappointment. The padawan suddenly raises his eyebrows in shock as he noticed that the dowutin female carried a strikingly similar lightsaber as her co-worker. _She must be part of this Imperial...cult_, he concluded as they two continued their conversation. "Yes, well, a Jedi is a Jedi, fellow Inquisitor. And he could be just as dangerous as Yoda in a short decade." _Inquisitor? Is that what these people are called?_ The dowutin smirked at the seemingly exaggerated comparison.

"This boy compared to the grand master? Doubtful. Anyways, as I was saying, I'll carry out that order. If you please," she aggressively reminded her smaller and leaner colleague.

Cal felt like a loth cat ready to pounce. This was the perfect opportunity to run like crazy and hope he didn't die. He knew death by stray blaster bolt would be far better than whatever these inquisitors and their master had in store for him.

And besides, this way he might actually get out of this in one piece. He just needed the perfect moment to bolt.

And never look back.

The two women actually approached one another now, seeming hostile. They seemed to completely forget that Cal was even there. Obviously the two were competing for praise and status given by their masters.

"On the contrary, Ninth Sister, I do not please. I shall carry out my order and deliver Lord Vader's prize to him personally. Now go," the smaller imperial ordered as she got right up in the much taller dowutin's face. Cal was admittedly impressed by her confidence in herself. He needed that now.

And he decided in a wild moment that he needed it _right_ now.

"Actually, I'm afraid neither of you will carry out that order."

He was dashing away as fast as his legs could carry him before the two women could even turn to look. He didn't use the Force, worried that for some reason it would make matters worse. But he immediately wondered why he hadn't when he heard a sizzling sound coming dangerously close. Cal didn't have time to wonder if it was the trooper's electrostaff getting ready to paralyze him when a sharp pain on the right side of his neck followed by a shock caused him to yelp and fall onto the rocky surface, hard. Disoriented and dizzy, and his neck burning from the evidently deep cut, he heard the running of the imperial troops behind him and for a moment resigned himself to his fate. But the time seemed to strangely slow as he realized a simple fact. The Jedi was found out. His survival had been revealed. So now, he realized, he could use the Force any old time he wanted to. No longer would it have to plead to him to return to its swelling, circulating energy that bound the moons and the stars, the plants and the animals, and him and his enemies together. The Jedi was himself once more. So as he refused the strong temptation to look back, he stood up once more and focused, his concentration beginning to channel the magical power within himself to use an old trick that many Jedi learned at a young age. Sprinting. And not just any old sprinting. Supernatural speed. So swift that even a groundspeeder may struggle to keep up with the runner. The catch, however, was that it drained your energy as fast as fuel flying out of an open tank. But Cal didn't worry about that now. All he had to do was focus on making sure he didn't run into anything and trip, or slam into a rock in his blurry path. Running at a blinding speed made that harder than it sounded.

"Don't let him get away!" the voice of the smaller inquisitor shouted to her comrades in the distance behind him. He heard it, but paid no attention. He knew one simple look over his shoulder could be the difference between life and death at this point. He had to survive.

And he had to get back to the crowds.

The only crowds he knew of were all the way back in the south. But he also knew that the north was fairly populated, so finding a high concentration of people shouldn't be difficult. For some reason a number of people preferred frigid and dry instead of wet and lukewarm. Cal certainly knew his opinion as the freezing air whipped at his face and his stinging wound as a result of his incredible speed. It had easily been one or two miles by now.

And by now he was feeling ready to drop.

Force sprinting wasn't something even Yoda could do for very long. And hopefully, the imperial women couldn't either.

To his surprise, rain began to fall heavily. Rain was uncommon in the north.

And it only added to the many difficulties of his sprint. The raindrops blurred his view even more. His own vision became practically unreliable.

So the Jedi knew now was the time to stop.

Cal slowly let go of his focus, and in a rush feelings came back into his all of his previously numb muscles.

And, as he had expected, it didn't take very long at all for him to drop to the ground, drained like a left-open open fuel tank on a soaring starship.

It took a few moments for him to get his bearings as he gasped for much needed air. The cool, slippery surface under his hands indicated metal. Blinking, colorful lights in the corner of his eye and ship's roaring engines faintly audible in the distance led him to believe he was on a docking platform of some kind. It took him a much fewer amount of moments to feel the excruciating ache in his legs from the unfathomable of amount of sprinting he had just completed. But, even as he somehow managed to unsteadily stand, he felt it had been worth it. He had walked away with only a shock and a cut from what he guessed had been an electric knife that the trooper kept as a backup to his much larger and bulkier staff. The drops of rainwater water trickling down the side of his neck had a telling red-tinted coloring.

Cal found himself grabbing onto a metallic pole for support as he continued his effort to steady himself and catch his breath. As much as he hated the fact, he knew that one or both of the women had followed him.

It was just a matter of time.

As if one cue, a sound of hurried footsteps on metal were audible above him. Startled, Cal turned around and looked high up to find the small, masked imperial woman on a high ledge of the platform. She stared down at him like an eagle having spotted its prey, and moments later she gracefully let herself drop down to his level and land as lightly as a feather on the platform.

Cal desperately tried to keep his physical and mental composure and she took a few cat-like and emphatically terrifying steps towards him. "Boy, you must have known running would do you no good. So, I am suggesting this to you for the last time; come with me," she said coolly and halted about ten feet away from him. The torrents of rain made her jet-black suit seem to sparkle in the starlight of the fast-approaching night. The red line across her mask glowed in the dim and bleary evening, seeming to add to the effect of the gloomy and scary scene the young Jedi survivor had found himself in. Cal did not answer her, but it didn't matter, as she continued anyways.

"Unless you're carrying a weapon to match my own, I suggest you do as I ask."

My weapon. He still had his master's lightsaber hidden away in his pocket. The same silver-hilted lightsaber that had asked him to take it out of the drawer of the beautiful Jedi starfighter. And only that saber could combat this woman's own red blade. Which meant he could fight. He could defend himself until either a miracle happened or until she'd get impatient and easily kill him with a single strike.

The latter was more likely, and he knew it. But anything at this point was worth trying for. Worth fighting for. Worth living just a little longer for.

So Cal Kestis, Jedi Padawan, once apprenticed to a Jedi Master, in that moment forgot that he was beyond exhausted and beyond terrified of this imperial female in front of him. He forgot about her brutally murdered innocent victims and her dowutin comrade.

In that moment, he remembered he was a Jedi.

So the Jedi removed his weapon from his pocket, and with a convicted push of a button activated his blade, and the blue light sprung like the hope and desire for something more than running that had just filled his heart.


	9. Chapter8:TheAmbition

Now that my "backtracking" is over, we're back to the crew of the Stinger Mantis! Reviews are greatly appreciated, and don't be afraid to constructively criticize me :)

**_Chapter 8: The Ambition_**

"So I ran. Matter of fact, I sprinted, actually. Force sprinted. But she caught up to me pretty quickly nonetheless. So...uh, yeah, we fought. And gosh, I was losing that duel in a big hurry. Until you came along, of course," the Jedi survivor hastily concluded to the amazement of his two listeners. Telling his admittedly unbelievable story was greatly helping him remember it all and settle in to his strange new surroundings with its interesting pair of people that had saved his life only a couple of short hours ago. Cal Kestis knew that even if this woman and her latero pilot weren't going to end up being the best of people, he had to be forever grateful to them for risking their lives for his. It had only recently dawned on him that the dark skinned woman, Cere, could have easily been killed by the inquisitor in the process of rescuing him. So he was thankful, and tried to show it the best he could. Telling his story was what he felt was the least he could do to repay them. "So um, yeah, that's it. And thanks again. I don't where I'd be right now if you hadn't found me." Cere, the supposed fellow Jedi survivor, smiled a 'you're welcome' and then made a dark look in the distance. "You'd probably be the guest of Darth Vader right now," she answered with a cold look in her eyes that Cal sensed to be a hint of anger. But who was Darth Vader? "Who's Darth Vader?" Cal asked carefully, becoming a bit uneasy from the dark emotions he was sensing within Cere. Even if these people had indeed saved his life, it didn't completely make them exempt from his golden rule. They could be smugglers or bounty hunters looking to sell him out to the imperials for all he knew. _Don't trust them just yet._ _You don't know enough. _"He's somebody you don't want to meet, kid," Greez chimed in as he clumsily jumped out of his pilot's chair and headed towards the control panel in the center of the ship. Cal looked curiously to Cere, hoping she would answer his inquiry in more detail. She seemed to wave her latero pilot off dismissively, suggesting his vagueness was unnecessary. "Vader is the emperor's appentice, Cal. He's a cyborg, almost completely machine, but the rumor is that he is indeed a man and was once a Jedi," she explained, and her cold emotions seemed to dissipate as she remembered something with a far away look in her dark brown eyes. "When I escaped the temple during Order 66, I saw someone killing the children with a blue lightsaber. I've always wondered if that was Vader before whatever happened happened and he was put in the suit," she recalled flatly, and Cal sensed that she had often dwelled on that moment and had managed to move on from it for the most part. But her description forced him to recall his own experience. _That man... "_I had a similar encounter, actually." Intrigued, Cere looked into his eyes, her gaze curious and inquisitive, asking for more. The Jedi suddenly hesitated, wondering if he had said too much. But he supposed it couldn't hurt, since she had just shared her own story. "Before I somehow managed to escape the temple, there was this person nearby. I never saw his face, but he was wearing dark brown Jedi robes and he was commanding the clones. He mentioned his master to them. His voice sounded really...young," Cal described to the apparent great interest of Cere. She seemed to soften at a thought for a moment before she spoke. "That sounds like the same man I must have seen. Chances are, that was Darth Vader. But who knows what his real name is." Cal nodded, his mind beginning to think of the many young male Jedi there were. The only ones he could think of were Kenobi and Skywalker, but he quickly dismissed the idea. The two most legendary Jedi of their time were certainly not a candidate for a Sith cyborg. At least, he really hoped not.

A vibration and a swift jolt announced that their ship had come out of lightpseed. Cal turned to look out of the cockpit's window, only to see blank, open space. "Hey, where are we?" he asked, a bit confused. He had thought they would go to some planet or moon, but here was just beautiful, vast stars and an endless black void. Cere took the flight stick and made the ship sit steady, not bothering to sit in the pilot's chair. "Open space. This ship is our home, so we only go to a planet if we need supplies, or if we pick up distress calls and other points of interest," Cere explained as she anchored their vessel to a fixed location so they would not drift aimlessly, and then tuned to face Cal, who was still staring out the window. "When did that happen?" she asked, gesturing towards the young Jedi. "When did what happen?" Cal asked, perplexed. Cere seemed to give a slight eye roll of annoyance. "That,_" _she repeated, and pointed at the still confused padawan. "You've got a nasty cut on your neck." "Oh yeah. That. Somebody, I think one of those black armored troopers I told you about, threw some kind of electric knife at me while I was running," Cal realized and ran his finger down the cut. He was surprised how long it was as he followed the feel of the dried blood. The trooper must have had some pretty incredible aim to land such a solid hit while he was running so fast. Cere seemed surprised as well. "That's going to leave a permanent mark. Those black armored troopers are called purge troopers, by the way," she informed him and looked towards Greez, who was staring at a holomap of their current location in the center of the ship's interior. Cal was slightly taken aback by the name of the mysterious soldiers. "Purge troopers..." he said quietly to himself and stared at the floor, trying to puzzle out the revelation. The purge. Order 66. The order to kill every Jedi in existence. And if those troopers were called purge troopers, they must be hunting surviving Jedi. And they called that imperial woman master. That woman...

Suddenly alarmed, Cal swiftly stood up out of his seat on the bridge and quickly remembered his recent rescue as his leg responded with painful protest. He forced himself to ignore it and grabbed onto the door frame of the ship's cockpit to resume his thoughts in peace. "Who was that back there?" he asked vaguely, referring to the imperial woman whom he had dueled earlier. Cere's expression turned serious, as if she had been expecting the question for awhile now. "An imperial inquisitor. She's a Force user hunting Jedi survivors," she answered, and the dark look from before seemed to return to her gaze. "And Cal," she continued, and bore her brown eyes into Cal's bewildered ones as she spoke, "they know who you are." _Well, of course they do,_ Cal thought irritatedly. Surely she knew that he was aware of that. "I know they do. They just tried to kill me, Cere. It was pretty obvious." But she shook her head, indicating he hadn't fully understood her statement. "No, Cal, that's not what I meant. I meant that they know exactly who you are. They know your name, Cal Kestis. They know you're an ex-padawan, a survivor, and a former member of that lovely establishment called the scrapper guild. They know everything." Cal took a double take at the sound of his last name. It was the first time he'd heard it in long, long years. "How do you know this?" he asked, his voice wavering in mistrust and anxiety. Cere did not answer, exactly. "I have my ways," she replied and looked up and down at him with a slightly softer gaze when he shifted his weight with a visible wince. "You know I can't do much about that," she said and indicated towards his leg. "I know. That's why I didn't say anything," he acknowledged with a slight bend of the truth. He hadn't said anything because he didn't trust her. And besides, he'd lived with a broken arm or leg before. He could deal with it just fine.

Cere suddenly asked a question, a question that Cal could not remember ever being asked.

"What do you want, Cal Kestis?"

What did he want? For the Empire to be obliterated, for the emperor to be killed, to know who his family was, to go back to Coruscant, for his friends to be alive, or to know who Vader really was? What did he want more than anything else in the entire universe? To his surprise, the impossible-question sounding question had a simpler answer than Cal could have ever imagined.

"I want the Jedi back."

The sides of Cere's mouth curved upwards in a smile at his rather quick answer. She knew the decision to save the boy had been a good one, and this moment had just set it in indestructible stone.

"What if I told you that's my goal?"

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So, here's the plan guys. I'm not going to keep going with this until the game comes out on the 15th. After I've seen the whole story, I'll either manage to continue on from here using the actual storyline, or I'll start over and make a novelization. Right now, I'll probably write some scenes from the films to keep me busy. Thank you for reading this! 3


	10. Chapter9:PastandPresent

**Hi guys! I'm back after having watched the full campaign of Fallen Order numerous times because I can't get over how amazing it is :D Thank you so much for your support on this story! This was the first thing I ever wrote and actually showed somebody, let alone post it here for the public. I've decided to continue off of what I wrote since it's similar enough to what actually happened. I'll tweak a couple of things early on in this so it'll make sense. I'll try to get chapters out maybe at least one every two weeks because being a freshman in high school is demanding as well as life. Also, I'm considering novelizing some episodes of The Mandalorian, so you guys let me know if you'd be interested! This chapter is pretty short, but I wanted to get it out so you guys know that I'm still working on this. Thanks again, and enjoy!**

**Chapter 9: Past and Present**

_I saw something in you. So I chose you. That okay? Cal, look out!_

A nearby presence suddenly jerked Cal awake with a start, interrupting his mind's trip down memory lane. His blurry, sideways view showed him the short and stout Greez, the grumpy latero and pilot of the ship. "You were talking in your sleep. Weirdo." Greez told him with a grunt of sarcasm and a smirk before he left the bedroom in the large and oddly luxurious vessel. Cal rolled over and rubbed his eyes, wondering how long he'd slept. He couldn't get the fact that Prauf was dead out of his head. He knew he shouldn't blame himself, since if he hadn't resisted he knew he would be with much less hospitable people right now, but the guilt of Prauf's death as well as the others' was painful and heavy. But to his surprise, getting up was painless. Perplexed, he stepped outside and into the main area of the ship and saw Cere and Greez on the bridge. The recent uncomfortable limp in his leg was gone, and he made sure by taking a few exaggerated extra steps. He glanced up to see the odd pair that had rescued him were busy calculating what looked to be coordinates for a hyperspace route, so he sat down on the soft leather seat surrounding a small table. A small string instrument leaning against the far end of the circular table caught his eye. It was a hallisket, a popular musical instrument across every corner of the galaxy. And even better yet, Cal could play it. He'd found one while he was scavenging on Bracca early on, and it had been something to look forward to after the long and grueling work days. It had been missing three strings and the base was badly dented, but he's found some junk to put together and give it the necessary seven strings. Before Prauf had made himself part of his life, that hallisket had been his friend. Cal gently picked up this one, which was in much better condition than his had been, and played a few notes. So that's how it's supposed to sound, he thought comically as the strummed a low note and then a high chord. The one he had back on Bracca always had a strange after-sound, like the aftertaste of expired food, but this one was clear throughout. The Jedi felt himself become absorbed in the object, and soon enough he was playing perfectly flowing notes without even having to think about it. He didn't have to look to see the next string; he could simply feel which one was next. And it was then that he realized he was playing a song. Cal didn't know it, but the key it was in was moody and somehow beautiful. He finished the relatively short piece in about a minute, and upon playing the final chord, looked up to see Cere staring at him, seeming mesmerized. "I wrote that song. A long time ago," she said with wonder in her deep voice. "You touch an object and feel events connected to it. You feel its history," she realized as she spoke. Cal nodded slightly. "It's an echo in the Force from the object," he explained as she sat down beside him. His ability had been both a blessing and a curse throughout his life. A blessing when he was still a Padawan on missions for the Jedi, but a curse after the purge. Touching a clone's helmet he had found in a venator on Bracca had been a mistake. He'd seen parts of Order 66 from the Clone's perspective, and watched him and his comrades gun down Jedi in the temple. Something had felt odd about it, however. It was as if the clones hadn't wanted to do what there were doing, but they did it anyway. After that experience, Cal never touched anything related to clones that he found ever again for fear of his strange power kicking in at any given moment. "Not many Jedi have that skill," Cere complimented him with a small smile. "Do you have it?" Cal asked, curious. "No. I'm...not a Jedi anymore, Cal," she admitted hesitantly. It filled Cal with a hundred questions, but she spoke again before he had time to pick one. "But I do use the Force from time to time. I tried out my old healing ability on you. Did you notice?" "Oh. Yeah, I did. Thanks for that," Cal responded after a brief moment, surprised by the revelation. He looked at her closely, trying to remember if perhaps at any point in his Jedi career he had met her. "Do I know you?" "No," she quickly answered. "But I knew your master. Jaro Tapal." _Master Tapal._ He hadn't allowed himself to think of that name in five years. Remembering him was haunting, a reminder of the unchangeable past that had killed his master and so many others while forever changing the lives of the few who survived it. But hearing the sound of his name made it impossible not to see him in his head again. He was a lasat, tall and purple-skinned with huge feet and long hair in a stiff braid. His voice was deep, commanding authority yet projecting the kindness and compassion the jedi were famous for. It was the voice that filled him with guilt when it scolded him and filled him with pride and joy when it praised him. And then one day, it was gone.

"He was a true guardian of the Republic," Cere recalled softly and focused her gaze towards the floor reverently. "He was a hero," Cal agreed, trying not to remember too much. Nostalgia wouldn't get him very far in life these days. Moving forward would. But the Force was such a delicate thing for him now, and he was hesitant to open up about it to Cere. But he felt he should. Had to in order to take the next step. And the next. "Listen," Cal asked of Cere, who complied and looked into his eyes. "Something happened to me during the Purge. I survived, but...my connection to the force is damaged. When I meditate, if I let my guard down, I lose control," Cal explained, desperately trying not to choke up. "And it's like I'm back in that moment when…" _When all of those lightsabers were silenced, one by one._ "You survived, Cal," Cere reminded him when he stopped short. "And you're not alone. Not anymore."

"_We're coming up on our destination_," Greez announced over the intercom, oblivious of the two Jedi's emotional and tense conversation. Cal said nothing, and instead stood up and walked towards the cockpit to prepare for the exit from light speed and the entrance to a new adventure.


	11. Ch10:Purpose

**Hello again! I finally managed to finish this chapter and keep going. It's a lot longer than the last one, don't worry! I wanted to put out there that even though this is a novelization of the storyline, I am going to put my own spin on some things, especially since I have to get creative when writing the gameplay (meaning when you're just running around fighting creatures and wall-running and all that) And I'll add in extra things, like for example, (minor spoilers ahead) how did Merrin know to go underwater to save Cere and Cal at the end? Did she teleport them onto the Mantis? What happened when the got on board? When did Cere wake up? I'll be writing those scenes myself for fun and to quench my and hopefully your curiosity. Thanks again for all the support, and enjoy chapter 10!**

**_Chapter 10: Purpose_**

"This is Bogano," Cere announced as she and Cal stepped down the ramp of the Stinger Mantis and into the mild, humid climate of the planet. "A Jedi I knew discovered it before the Purge. You won't find it on any maps." Cal looked around for a moment at the endless marsh the planet contained. Every blade of grass was a bright, healthy green, surrounded by clear, pale blue water that covered the landscape in small sections. Native birds flew freely overhead, twittering and squawking upon noticing their planet's visitors. A small creature that looked to be a feline happily hopped across the large puddles of water, careful not to dampen its golden brown fur and long, twitching whiskers. "The Empire doesn't know this place exists?" Cal asked and dusted the dirt off of his non-gloved hand. "No," Cere answered, sounding very pleased. "So what's the plan? We, y'know, hide out here?" "We're done hiding, Cal." The words were like an exhilarating, exciting, and somewhat shocking confirmation for the ex-padawan, but Cere didn't give him much time to process her words. "See that structure over there?" she asked and directed his gaze with a point towards a massive and tall stone building in the distance. "I believe that vault holds the key to rebuilding the Jedi Order. But it requires someone strong in the Force to pass its test." Cal turned and looked right into her eyes, realizing what she had in mind. "And since you're not a Jedi anymore, that's why you need me." Cere gave him a knowing look that seemed to conceal a smile. "I know you don't trust me," she revealed, nodding her head as she spoke. "And I'm not really sure I trust you." Cal blinked at that, amused, before she continued. "But we have a common enemy. And a common cause. I'll share more of my plan with you after you reach the vault. But," she seemed to add as a side note, "until then, there's someone here I think you should meet." With that, she walked up the ship's ramp to leave a curious Cal to complete her mission she had set for him. "May the Force be with you."

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Cal began to find a route towards the imposing stone structure he had been instructed to enter as he jumped over puddles and trudged through the wet grass, startling some of the local felines and causing them to run into their burrows to safety. "I guess I'm looking for a Jedi. But if there's already a Jedi here, why would Cere need me?" he asked himself as he quickly sidestepped to avoid falling into one of the cat's deeply-dug homes. There were other random man-made structures lying about, but they didn't seem to have a connection to the vault. _I need to meditate_, he decided as he pulled himself up a ledge. _I need to clear my head. Prepare myself for whatever happens here._ A few more jumps and steps through the landscape revealed an isolated and small cliff that was one of the only places without any wildlife wandering about. "This looks safe," Cal determined, and with a deep breath, knelt down and began focusing his mind on the Force. The powerful energy that he had once used and depended on, then abandoned and neglected, and now using again. The Force seemed satisfied with his choices, even if he wasn't sure that he was. The path he was somewhat inadvertently going down felt that it was meant to be. He had his doubts about Cere, and sensed them. Her position in the Force was uncertain, her story cloudy, unable to be seen or figured out. Cal made a mental note to ask her why she chose to no longer be a Jedi. Although he assumed that at one point, he had made that same choice. But he hadn't had many options back then. Now, now he did. And he had chosen to go to the vault.

Feeling done, Cal opened his eyes and immediately felt tense. Meditating was a touchy thing for him to be doing these days, but he needed to get back into it. It was essential for any Jedi to stay connected to the Force.

A beeping noise that sounded like a small droid made him jerk slightly. Cal looked down to see a tiny droid with two legs, an antenna, and two big bug eyes looking at him curiously. The Jedi looked to his mark and saw the assigned name BD-1. "Hey, BD-1," Cal greeted and looked around to make sure they were alone. "I'm Cal." The droid beeped inquisitively, turning its head to project emotion. Cal had to admit the droid was awfully cute. "Uh, yeah, I'm okay. I'm just looking for someone," he answered the droid, who immediately beeped another question. "No, I'm not looking for you. I'm searching for a Jedi, I think," Cal told BD casually with a shrug. Beedee immediately jumped up on his little appendages and began speaking a blur of excited beeps that Cal struggled to keep up with as he stood up. "Wait, you know the Jedi? What do you know?" The droid just kept happily beeping as he jumped onto a terminal and sliced it with his foot, revealing a metal bridge that allowed him to walk to the other side of the cliff. "Wait, did you just slice that?" Cal asked, interested in a droid that could do the handy trick. The little droid gave a series of even more happy beeps. "Thanks." Before he could ask the droid anything else, it activated its boosters and flew up the small cliff edge, leaving Cal to climb the vines hanging down from it. The top of the cliff, however, only revealed a dead end. A metal sliding door on the other side of their rock looked promising. "Any ideas?" Cal asked Beedee and pointed towards the door. Beedee beeped as joyfully as ever and jumped on top of a cable that connected the two cliffs. "A zip line? Okay then," Cal puzzled out, and with a small jump, grabbed Beedee's small feet and was soon sliding down the cable at a rapid pace. "Woah!" he exclaimed as they sped down, though the ride was rather short. "How did you know that would work?" The droid beeped evasively at this question. "Wait, you didn't?" Cal realized and laughed. Laughing was such a wonderful rarity now. The little droid seemed so joyful and excited that Cal couldn't help but be happy with him. The Jedi approached the door he had seen before, but after hitting the various buttons on the control panel and banging on the brown metal with his fist, he came to the obvious conclusion that it was locked. "Well, we can't get in here." Never one to get down, Beedee ran towards an unstable looking metal pole that led to an opening in another cliffside and quickly walked across it. "Be careful!" Cal called, but the droid paid no heed and was soon inside the cliffside. Cautious, Cal stared up at the rusted metal pole and tested it, seeing if it would hold his weight. After a few pulls and pushes, he decided it was safe and carefully stepped across, careful not to lose his balance. _Just like back at the scrapyard. _He stepped across the bend, revealing the humbly furnished room that BD had entered, only to find an ugly creature attacking a frantically squeaking BD-1. "Hold on, Beedee!" Cal called and pulled out his lightsaber, the blue beam flashing to life as he jumped down and sliced the startled creature. It fell in half with a strange scream, and Beedee quickly jumped away from its jaws like a womp rat that had just escaped an acklay. "That was pretty brave. You okay?" Cal asked him as he deactivated his saber and tucked it away. The awful smell of the dead creature's burning flesh quickly began to dominate the small room. Beedee beeped a bit sadly and limped, revealing sparks flying from his right leg. "Don't worry, I think I can fix that," Cal assured him as he spotted a workbench tucked away in one of the rooms of the strange little lodging. Beedee beeped and looked up at him. The expression in his eyes reminded Cal of the stray canines that would beg for food scraps on Bracca. The expression that made them look so cute and helpless you just couldn't help but toss them something. "Uh, okay," Cal accepted with a small laugh and picked up the droid, who beeped happily and peered at him closely like an owl as he set him down on the bench which conveniently contained a drill and a wrench. "Well, your scomp link is busted, but this should help get you moving for now," Cal told the droid as he operated on the tiny leg. It didn't take long; all he did was insert a few new wires he had in his pocket. "How's that?"

Beedee said nothing, instead tapped his feet and activated his scanner. Perplexed, Cal watched as the droid seemingly scanned him with its blue light before it asked an intriguing question.

"The Vault?" Yeah, that's where I was headed to."

More affirmatively toned beeps followed.

"Okay. Well, first we have to get out of here," Cal agreed as Beedee took his words to heart and quickly ran into a tiny hole in the wall. "Uh, Beedee, that's a little small for me."

The droid made some dismissive sounds.

"Don't worry, I'll find my own way over there," Cal assured him and found a tight crevice in the wall that led to Beedee's location. He just barely fit, and upon exiting found nothing but some hanging black wires blocking their path. Unconcerned, as he has sliced hundreds of dysfunctional wires with thermal tools on Bracca without error, he swung his lightsaber- only to be rewarded with a powerful shock that sent him tumbling onto the floor, groaning from the instantaneous burning feeling of the electricity. Beedee, however, quickly ran to him and tried pushing him up with his little head as he beeped with concern. "Yeah, I'm fine," Cal assured him and slowly sat up, feeling disoriented. The place where he had been hit the worst protested with a sharp pain. Beedee beeped and launched a small device into the air from his head. Cal, still on the floor, caught it and realized what it was. "A healing stim? You're full of surprises," Cal complimented and stared at the tiny object. The little tool worked wonders and was rather hard to come by these days, which made the droid having it a pleasant surprise. Knowing how to use it, Cal injected the canister into his chest, causing his discomfort to immediately dissipate and the canister's green glow to disappear. "Thanks, little droid," Cal said as he stood up and rolled his shoulders. He began to walk though the opening his swing had created when he felt something tug on his leg. Beedee was clinging to him like a loth cat and staring up into his eyes with the same adorable expression that made it impossible to deny it of anything in the world. The droid beeped his question and rotated his little head, expressing a surprising amount of emotion and personality. "Uh, sure. Hop on board," Cal replied, and to the droid's delight, he let Beedee perch himself on his shoulder as he stepped through the now cleared opening with the sparking wires strewn across the floor.

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They trudged along for a while, jumping up ledges, riding more zip lines, and fighting various creatures along the way. No stormtroopers were present, only the long, foul bog rats and the massive bugs with concerningly large pincers. Cal was getting into the groove of fighting with a lightsaber again, letting the crystal become part of him and make the hilt lighter as he cut down his attackers just like he had five years ago. BD-1 helped as well, shocking the creatures and scanning their bodies to reveal their information. The little droid seemed so delighted to finally have some action with someone as he perched on Cal's back and occasionally made conversation through his beeps and bleeps. Cal was amazed at the sheer amount of personality and individuality the little droid possessed. Every movement it made was like a person's. Tilt the head a bit when confused, jump up and down when ecstatic, lower his head and antenna when sad. And that look, the one where he used the puppy eyes you couldn't bring yourself to refuse. _Why do I like this little thing so much?_ Cal thought comically as he clambered up some vines to avoid a group of bog rats. He knew why, though. Because droids were loyal. You would never have to worry about them failing you or betraying you, at least by choice. Much like the clones...Cal shoved the thought from his head and suddenly heard a low groan, like a large animal was near.

_Fwee-dee-boop._

"What's that, Beedee?" Cal asked and turned a corner, only to find exactly what had made the guttural noise. Cal's blue eyes widened in shock at the sight of a colossal amphibian across the cliff. Brown, lumpy skin and three huge green eyes adorned the ugly creature's body, along with long claws and large jaws currently devouring a hapless bog rat. Cal stood agape for a moment, watching as the small-in-comparison bog rat became the massive amphibian's mid-morning snack. "We've gotta get past...that," Cal whispered over his shoulder to Beedee when he realized that the only way forward was blocked by the creature. Carefully, in an attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible, Cal did a tip-toe run towards his exit and the massive amphibian, hoping to avoid conflict. The creature made a sudden turn and groaned another bellow, all three green eyes locking on to the bewildered Jedi trespassing in his territory. Fight instinct kicked in as Cal activated his blue weapon and attempted to swing at the creature the moment after it noticed him. It dodged with surprising agility and reflexes and charged, violently swinging its head in the Jedi's direction. Cal rolled in the nick of time and slashed his blade upward, slicing a chunk of skin off of the large animal. It bellowed in pain and threw its head again, swinging its clawed feet to add to its offense. The surprisingly impressive attack caught Cal off guard, and he didn't have time to evade the creature's massive head slamming him into the dirt. The huge jaws immediately began snapping in a desperate attempt to reach the Jedi's face as he braced his hand against its snout with a great effort. Beedee was stuck under his back and desperately trying to wriggle free from the crippling weight.

_Frwee-beep!_

"I'm….trying!" Cal responded, but the tiny distraction cost him as the creature's teeth hit their mark. The Jedi Padawan grunted in pain as the ragged teeth dug into his right arm, causing his arm to go almost limp. His lightsaber slipped from his fingers as he struggled against the amphibian's unforgiving grip.

_Fwoo-dee-boop!_

Beedee finally freed itself, jumped an amazing height onto the creature's back, and activated his little foot to shock Cal's attacker. It roared in frustration and let go of his prey to attack Beedee, but the little droid held on as the creature thrashed in an attempt to throw him. Shaken, Cal finally managed to stand back up and grab his lightsaber with his good arm. "Now, Beedee! While it's distracted!" Cal called as he ran as fast as he possibly could to freedom. Beedee acknowledged him and did a run and jump onto his back and Cal clambered up the vines with one arm as the creature roared below, unable to reach him. The climb was long and a struggle, but Cal managed to reach the top and upon doing so rolled onto his back in the grass to catch his breath.

_Froo-beep?_

"I'm fine. You?" Cal asked Beedee and gripped his arm. The teeth had sunk in deep, but the injury wasn't crippling.

_Fwee-beep._

"Good. We still gotta get to the vault," he replied and stood up to get his bearings. The vault's tall structure was visible and close by, maybe only half a mile away. No more attackers were in sight, so the Jedi padawan clipped his lightsaber to his belt and made his way towards the mysterious building and whatever it had in store for him.

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The colossal vault loomed large on the tall hill, forcing the Jedi and his droid to tilt their heads upward to see the top. Cal made the difficult upward climb through the slippery mud, being careful not to get his boots stuck in the thick dirt. The narrow entrance to the mysterious stone structure could be seen at the top of the slope. "Looks like this is the only way in," Cal observed over his shoulder to Beedee, who beeped his agreement. "Race you to the top?" Beedee didn't answer, instead jumped off his back and started running up the muddy hill as fast as his little legs could carry him. "Hey!" Cal shouted after him as he started giving chase, well knowing he would never catch up. The climb was longer than he expected, and he found himself panting by the time he reached the top.

_Fwee-beep!_

"Yes, yes, you won, you little cheater," Cal responded playfully, and stared at the all, narrow door in front of him. Markings that appeared to be from an ancient language were scattered on the door's face, their presence implying mystery and ancient history. Hoping to put his rare ability to use, Cal closed his eyes and focused, placing his hand on one of the strange characters. Immediately a pulse of energy presented itself through Cal's hand, and the door began to open. The awed Jedi stepped back and watched the opening to the vault appear. It was dark, damp, and very narrow, but the ex-padawan managed to fit through, with BD-1 right behind him. Light slowly became visible at the end of the tunnel, and upon entering the vault, Cal gaped in awe at its remarkable architecture. Three doors were in the back, their frames circular with drawings and designs unique to each engraved on the mossy stone. The sun's light and warmth poured through the top and shone on a circular stone surface in the center of the vault. The entire floor was ankle deep in water, and grass was at the bottom, making the surface almost like a shallow pond. It struck Cal as odd that the design of the structure seemed to resemble that of a Jedi holocron. The locks and gears, the circular center with the light shining down upon it, the triangular designs around the interior, they all had uncanny similarities to a holocron.

_Frwee-boop!_

Cal's sightseeing was interrupted by BD-1, who jumped off his back and ran to the center circle of the vault. "What is it, buddy?" Beedee did not reply, instead seemed to freeze for a moment, like he had fallen into a trance. "You all right, Beedee?"

_"Well done, whoever you are. You have passed the test I left behind, and gained access to the vault and this recording, one of many encrypted logs stored in the droid."_

The ex-padawan's gaze rose to find a traditional blue hologram of an elderly man wearing the signature beige Jedi clothing. His hair was snow white and was only present on either side of his head, leaving his top completely bald. His expression was warm and seemed kind and trustworthy.

_"I am Master Eno Cordova,_" the Jedi in the recording revealed with a courteous bow.

_"I may not know your name, but I know your purpose. The fate of the Jedi Order lies in your hands_."

Cal's eyebrows raised at this, mesmerized by the recording Beedee was presenting to him.

_"This...place, this...vault is a sacred temple. Built by a vanished civilization known as the Zeffo,_" Cordova continued, and looking around the visit as if he were truly there at that moment.

_"Meditating here, I was granted a premonition through the Force. A vision of doom_," Cordova recalled, closing his eyes as if he were actually meditating.

_"Inside this vault, I have placed a Jedi holocron containing the names and locations of young Force-sensitives throughout the galaxy._"

Cal's jaw dropped at the revelation, shocked and amazed that a legitimate list of force-sensitive children existed and was somehow accessible.

_"Ahead, you will find the inner chamber of the vault, but also another test. I can only trust this holocron to someone who has followed my path and understands. Seek out the tombs of the Three Sages. And learn to perceive the mysteries of the Force as the Zeffo once did. In this droid, you will find everything you need to succeed on this journey._"

Cal stared down at the still motionless BD-1, trying to take in everything he was hearing.

_"Go to the Zeffo home world. There, you will find peace in the eye of the storm. Good luck, Jedi._

_And May the Force be with you."_


	12. ANOUNCEMENT&EXCITINGNEWS

-Hey everyone! Just a quick announcement: this story is COMPLETE. I have decided not to do the novelization since the main purpose was to speculate and get hyped for Fallen Order's beginning. Thank you all SO MUCH for your support, I never expected so many favorites, follows, and kind reviews from you all. But FEAR NOT, for I bring tidings of great joy ;)** I have a super exciting idea in the the works. It's an ORIGINAL STORY, and is about a certain pilot that has a past with a certain group of people on a certain snowy planet **(can you guess?) I can't guarantee my wild dreams of a 50K word story will come to fruition, but I will write it, no doubt. **The title will either be "Runaway" or "The Rouge One" and Chapter 1: (name TBD) will be posted hopefully this week.** Once again, thank you, and may the force with with you always.


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